


Out of the Frying Pan

by JadeHo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Powered!Steph, not Between the Plums compliant, slower burn but maybe not fully a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-22 08:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 80,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14304414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeHo/pseuds/JadeHo
Summary: Stephanie Plum is an okay bounty hunter. Not a great one, and not a private detective. But her father asks for help finding a missing person, and Stephanie agrees to look into the matter as a favor. Soon she’ll be introduced to a new group of people she never thought she’d meet, and her already strange life will get much more crazy.





	1. Chapter 1

Being a bond enforcement agent (BEA), or bounty hunter as some like to call us, was a tough job for many reasons.

First of all, I wasn't a very good bounty hunter. I definitely wasn't the worst bounty hunter I knew, but I was also far from being the best. So far.

Ricardo Carlos Manoso, aka Ranger, was hands down the best bounty hunter I knew, and he wasn't even a bounty hunter anymore. He was retired, for the most part, unless a really good case came up or he needed to get me out of a tight spot.

I hadn't been in a tight spot for a couple weeks, mostly because I had a broken leg. And part of what made being a bond enforcement agent so difficult was the fact that it was an inconsistent (and often insufficient) source of income— especially when you weren't all that great at it. If you weren't very good, it took you longer to bring in each FTA.

FTA was short for "failure to appear" and is what we called a person who was bonded out by a bail bondsman and then didn't show up for their court date.

The way it worked was when someone got arrested, a judge might set bail. Bail was an amount of money that, if paid, served as collateral guaranteeing that a person would show up in court for their trial. If a person received bail and paid it, they could go home until their trial. If they couldn't afford to pay the amount bail was set at, they hired a bondsman who, for a fee, paid the bond on their behalf. If the bonded person showed up for their scheduled court date, the money was returned to the bail bondsman and the trial ensued. If they skipped their court date, the money was forfeit. When that happened, the bail bondsman was out all the money unless they returned the FTA, or skip, back to jail.

BEAs were hired by bondsman, like my cousin Vinnie who ostensibly owned Plum Bail Bonds, to bring in skips in exchange for a portion of the money the bondsman would have otherwise lost.

Being a bounty hunter was also basically a contract gig. You got paid per skip, end of story. No salary to fall back on, and no benefits. When it took you longer to bring in skips, like it often did for me, that meant you could bring in fewer skips total, and you made less money.

About six weeks ago I had been hit by a car driven by one of my skip's henchmen in an effort to kidnap and then kill me. They wanted to keep me from uncovering their drug dealing operation.

They'd made it most of the way through their plan, but the bonds office file clerk and my sometimes partner, Lula, had called in the cavalry, and I'd been rescued before I'd been killed. All I had taken away from the incident was the broken leg and some nightmares about being frozen alive and turned into a cherry popsicle.

No joke— that had been their plan. That was a whole different story involving an ice cream factory and organized crime.

But with bounty hunting being a contract position, I didn't have disability. And I certainly couldn't go after skips with my leg in a cast. So that meant that while I was healing, I hadn't had any income.

Six weeks later, the nightmares were less frequent, my already paltry bank account was almost on empty from lack of making money, I was going absolutely stir crazy, and I wanted to murder Joe Morelli. Morelli was my on-again-off-again boyfriend with who I'd mostly been living while in my convalescence. We've had our unstable relationship for years, but we'd been mostly been in an "on" phase recently.

In fact, Joe Morelli and I were maybe engaged to be engaged. Every once in a while, we talked about getting married sometime in the distant future, and then we didn't mention it again for months. Morelli started skipping dinners with my family to avoid the possibility of a wedding being planned. It was a whole cycle.

When my leg had been broken and I'd been put in a cast, I'd had to move in with either Morelli or my parents to get by. My parents lived in a small, three bedroom house with only one bathroom. My Grandma Mazur had lived with them ever since my Grandpa Mazur went to the Big Hotel in the Sky, and between her and my father, bathroom time was almost non-existent for anyone else.

Morelli only had one bathroom as well, but I only had to share with him. Plus he had Bob, an adorable giant of a dog who was dumb as a load of bricks but doled out love unconditionally and enthusiastically. Bob was great for the first few weeks of my recovery keeping my spirits up.

But the last couple weeks had been absolutely brutal. When my follow-up appointment showed that my fracture was healing well and wouldn't require surgery, I'd talked the doctor into a smaller brace rather than cast.

My name is Stephanie Plum, and the world needed to watch out. I was mobile.

If I was very careful, I thought I could probably drive. So I dropped by my parents' house to see if I could borrow Big Blue, a powder blue 1953 Buick Roadmaster that Grandma Mazur had inherited from my great uncle Sandor.

Grandma Mazur didn't have a license to drive and was becoming more blind practically by the day, so Big Blue pretty much just stayed in my parents' garage and occasionally I borrowed it when I found myself without a car. I hated driving Big Blue because it ate through gas like a termite through wood, but it was better than no car. You couldn't chase down skips and drag them into jail on foot.

Well, maybe Ranger could, but I could not. And I was pretty sure Ranger wouldn't do it, even if he could.

My mother and Grandma Mazur were out at the hair salon when I texted Grandma to ask about the car, so I was expecting a minimal exchange with my father, mostly in grunts while he watched some sort of sporting event on the TV with one eye, as I grabbed the keys.

"Hi, Dad!" I called to him as I limped past the living room toward the kitchen and the keys to the Buick. "Can you tell Grandma I said, 'thanks again' for letting me borrow Big Blue?"

Much to my surprise, I heard the TV turn off and my father yell out, "Stephanie?"

I grabbed the keys off the hook by the back door then poked my head into the living room to look at him.

"That a problem?" I asked.

"No no, no problem. It's better you have it than that old bat anyway!" He told me, waving off my concern. He gestured to the couch across from his recliner, so I moved over and lowered my self down. "How's the leg?"

"Pretty good!" I told him, amping up the enthusiasm more than I was actually feeling. "My leg mostly doesn't hurt anymore, and I got the sign off to start doing more again from the doctor. This is mostly just here to keep me from breaking it again."

And mostly that was true.

"Going back to work?" He asked.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm up for solo takedowns right now, but I need something to do. I'll probably take some of the easier FTAs who just forgot to go to court or are otherwise easy to talk into going in to reschedule. Then maybe I'll do some research and help Lula find people and get her to do the physical stuff for now. Split the fee with her." I shrugged my shoulders.

Truth be told it was taking everything in my power not to panic over money these days. Being in a brace was definitely not going to help my bottom line.

I watched curiously as my father opened his mouth then shut it again a couple times. It was obvious he wanted to talk about something, but he couldn't bring himself to do so for some reason.

"What's up? Grandma Mazur and mom really are just at the hair salon, right?!" I asked, panic beginning to creep in. Grandma Mazur was a force to be reckoned with, but she was also old. Had something happened to her?

"There's this guy I used to work with before I retired, Dale Simms. His son, Jason, is missing. I thought maybe you could have a look around for him if you had some time. But if you're starting up work again-" he trailed off awkwardly and rubbed his head a bit.

This was my father.

Asking me for a favor.

My father never asked for anything more than for someone to pass him the gravy at dinner time.

"Why doesn't he go to the police?" I asked.

"Jason's in his twenties, and he doesn't live with them. The cops aren't going to do anything because they say maybe he's just not taking his parents calls."

I wanted to say no.

I wanted to tell him I had enough on my plate with the broken leg and trying to earn money however I could.

But then again, I didn't want to worry him. And I didn't want him to offer me money- either to have or as payment for the job.

And then there was the Catholic guilt. I was mostly a lapsed Catholic other than Christmas and Easter or anytime I was worried I was going to die. But the guilt was a habit formed from going to mass every Sunday growing up, and it was telling me to honor my father.

Taking a deep breath, I pasted a smile on my face, and assured my dad it would be no problem. I asked him for the relevant details- not that he had many to give me- and I told him I'd let him know when I had more information he could pass on to good old Dale Simms.

When my father turned the TV back on and resumed watching it, I figured that was my sign to leave.

Getting into Big Blue, I said a little prayer that I would actually be able to drive it safely. I figured it couldn't hurt since I was apparently trying to get into God's good graces today anyway and Big Blue was a bit of a boat and hard to drive on the best of days. And the cast on my leg was a definite sign that it wasn't the best of days.

My parents lived in a part of Trenton, New Jersey known as The Burg. The Burg was a nicer area of Trenton with mostly hard working, middle-class men and women. Everyone was always in everyone else's business. Vincent Plum Bail Bonds was just across from the Burg in Trenton, and most of its clients were from the Burg. It wasn't as good of a location as, say, a spot across from the police station might be, but it did well enough.

And it was conveniently not too long of a drive from my parents' house.

Still, by the time I pulled up and parked on the street, thankfully right outside the office, I was pretty sure I'd broken out in a light sweat from the effort. I wasn't in great shape before I broke my leg, and six weeks mostly off my feet didn't seem to have helped much in that regard.

Connie Rosolli was the office manage for Plum Bail Bonds, and she looked a little like Betty Boop. She kept the office running, and her desk was in the open office area, just in front of Vinnie's private office. She kept people who might want to attack or bother Vinnie (he was a weasel of a person) at bay, and she tried not to hear anything that happened inside the office.

Vinnie was married to Harry the Hammer's daughter, and Harry was  _connected_. Somehow despite having a father-in-law in the mob, Vinnie still managed to be a sexually deviant philanderer. His rumored exploits were numerous, and more than one involved different farm animals, so I thought Connie was smart to turn a deaf ear to his office. And to keep Lysol around.

When I walked in the door, Connie looked up and gave me a small smile. Lula was sleeping on the couch across the office, and her snore turned into a startled snort when the door slammed shut behind me.

"Whossat?" Lula gasped out as she bolted upright, causing Connie to roll her eyes.

I gave a little finger wave when Lula's eyes settled on me.

"Skinny Ass White girl!" Lula jumped up and I had to avert my gaze to keep from being flashed in the process. See, Lula was a lot of woman, and a former hooker. Mostly she still dressed like a prostitute, and shoved way too much Lula into way too small of some sort of Spandex contraption. Today's involved a lot of leopard print. She sorted out her dress and said, "are you back?"

The door to Vinnie's office opened and he stuck his head out yelling, "you better be back! After all I've done for you, you just up and disappear! I'm not paying you to shack up with Morelli! Do you know how many FTAs we have right now? I'm going to lose my business because of you!"

A quick look at Connie's face showed strain that could only mean the office really was in financial trouble. See when it came to bounty hunters, they really only had me. They used to have Ranger, but he'd mostly gotten out of the bounty hunter business and these days stuck to his private security company Rangeman of which he was CEO.

Lula was my partner sometimes, but as far as I knew, she'd never actually brought in a skip solo. There were a few people they called in from time to time part time, and I was sure that they had used them, but they weren't too reliable. I was also pretty sure Vinnie paid them more than he paid me.

"Hey!" I yelled right back at Vinnie. "It's not like I was on vacation! My LEG was BROKEN. It still kinda is, but I'm allowed up and about without crutches now. And I have this brace instead of a cast, so I thought I'd come in and see what I could do. Not to mention, you HAVEN'T been paying me!"

While I'd been talking, Vinnie had snapped his mouth shut. At the same time, Connie and Lula's mouths had dropped open and they were staring behind me with dazed expressions. Since nobody hit the floor, I assumed we weren't being robbed. I felt movement behind me a split second before I felt a warm arm snake around my waist.

Ranger.

While some might think the arm looked proprietary, and from the shocked looks on Connie's and Lula's faces they were thinking along those lines, I knew it wasn't. What Ranger was actually doing was taking some of my weight and giving my leg a bit of a rest.

"Babe," Ranger said casually though his eyes were fixing Vinnie with a dead look. "Should you be back already? I'm sure your cousin wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you if you came back too early. And he told me you would have a job when you were healed."

Come to think about it, I had wondered why Vinnie hadn't fired me for being out so long or bothered me once while I was recovering.

"Doctor said I was good to start walking around and stuff, and I figured Lula would be willing to work with me on takedowns," I explained.

"Fucking right I am," Lula agreed. "I got my gun and everything!"

Ranger was completely silent for a few beats after that, and I knew he was contemplating the fact. Lula with a gun was scary. She never hit what she was aiming at.

"Can I have a word with you outside?" Ranger turned and said to me.

"Sure, just give me a second," I agreed, holding in a sigh when Ranger let go of the hold he had on me, pausing only briefly to make sure my leg was going to hold me up.

He walked out the door, and Connie looked at me, "haven't you been living with Morelli?"

"Yes," I said. "He was taking care of me while my leg was hurt, and I was staying with him to make it easier."

"Was?" Lula asked. "You staying with Rambo now?"

She pointed at the door Ranger had just left.

"No. Still staying with, Morelli," I huffed out.

Truth be told though, I was thinking I would move back into my apartment. As long as I could scrape up enough money to pay the next month of rent. Whenever I stayed with Morelli too long, I started to get more and more frustrated and wanted my own space back. Then there were the matters of the pool table, xanthan gum, and Disney incidents.

The pool table was the easiest one. I'd thought Morelli was saving up to buy me an engagement ring since we'd agreed we'd be getting engaged down the road. Then a pool table had shown up in his house, and I'd realized that was what he had been saving money for.

And we still weren't  _really_  engaged. Just "engaged to be engaged" whatever that was worth, which I was beginning to suspect was nothing.

The xanthan gum incident was a bit of an emotional minefield, as just thinking about it was prone to get me pissed off. Joe had started having digestional issues and started seeing doctors and specialists. They'd thought it was various intolerances, and Joe had thought it was possible that he was going to die. That or the issues were caused by stress. Either way though, he'd decided that rather than divulge all his worries to me, he'd sleep with me then dump me and tell me to see other people (as long as those people weren't Ranger). I'd been mad that he was going through this huge thing and didn't talk to me about it. And I was REALLY mad that he would sleep with me THEN dump me THEN act like it was no big deal.

The Disney incident was tricky. See during the ice cream investigation, Ranger and I had gone to Disney. We'd been stuck overnight unexpectedly, shared a hotel room, and I'd gotten Tinkerbell panties. Really it was the panties fault that I'd slept with Ranger (though not for the first time). But he'd said something that really stuck with me. He'd told me I was no closer to getting Morelli to marry me than when I was five years old and Morelli tricked me into playing "Choo Choo" with him in his garage. I was the tunnel, Morelli was the train. ANYWAY, Ranger had a point.

Then I'd gotten back to Trenton and the whole broken leg thing had happened, and I'd spent six weeks living with Morelli while quietly fuming over these Incidents (really they probably all needed to be capital "I" incidents), and one of these days I was going to explode.

So I needed to get out of Morelli's house before I exploded, and to do that, I needed to keep my apartment. And to keep my apartment, I needed money.

Connie was holding out a stack of folders for me, so I took them as I asked, "can you run a check on someone for me?"

I grabbed a sticky note from her desk when she nodded and wrote down the little information my dad had given me on Jason and handed it to Connie.

Turning to Lula I said, "I've got some reading and planning to do, and I need to go see what Ranger wants. I don't think I'll be ready to go after anyone until tomorrow at the earliest, if that's alright with you?"

She nodded her head and I heard a muffled thunking sound and a curse from Vinnie's office, but I knew he was too scared of Ranger to say anything else for the day. I stood there flipping through the folders for a couple minutes, waiting for the first few printouts on Jason I knew Connie could get for me quickly but also not wanting to keep Ranger waiting for too long. When Connie held out a few papers me told me that she'd get me something more in the morning, I thanked her and said bye to her and Lula for the day then headed out to talk to Ranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, people! So My muse suddenly came back to me a couple weeks ago, and this new fic was born. Full disclosure: the writing is still IN PROGRESS. That being said, I have 12 chapters already written, so one a week until I finish should give me a decent buffer. Plus reviews make the muse happy, so hopefully that will help keep me writing. Hope you enjoy! Let me know if you do! :)


	2. Chapter 2

I stepped out of the bonds office to see Ranger leaning against his truck parked where Big Blue used to be. Before I could start to panic about my car being stolen, Ranger spoke up.

"Babe."

Babe could mean almost anything to Ranger. Often it meant that I'd amused him. Other times it meant he'd like to get me alone and naked. Sometimes it was a question.

Looking over at him, I could see that this time it meant he was offended that I thought my car could get stolen on his watch. Suspiciously, I reached my hand into my messenger bag and pulled out my key ring which no longer had the Buick key on it.

The sneaky man had managed to pickpocket me, take a key off my key ring, and put the rest of my keys back without me noticing. Sometimes I really did think Ranger was Batman. I mean, he had a dark past, a seemingly endless supply of nice black cars, and a mysterious silent business partner. Maybe it was Wayne Enterprises.

Except, you know, Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises were fictional.

Still, I thought I was onto something!

"I'm not Batman," he told me, slight smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

He pushed off from his truck and asked, "you all done here?"

Before I could tell him that I was, he was already opening up the passenger side door. Huffing out a breath, I climbed in, smacking away Ranger's hand when he tried to help me. Of course then I started falling, and he had to catch me forcing way more body contact than would have been necessary if I had just accepted his offer of assistance in the first place.

Ranger was deliciously warm and firm all over under his clothes, and he smelled amazing. At his amused but puzzled, "babe?" I could only assumed I'd groan when I'd found myself pushed up against him. Still I didn't acknowledge it and just settled myself into the seat.

Ranger stepped up on the running board and crowded me, and for a moment I held my breath thinking he was going to kiss me. Instead he just grinned an actual grin then pulled my seatbelt down and across, buckling me in quickly.

Before I could sort out what had happened, my door was shut, he was in and buckled on his side, and the truck was driving forward.

I felt hot and my mouth was dry, but I managed to resist fanning myself. And I definitely wasn't sitting there stuttering.

"Should you be going after skips?" Ranger asked after a couple minutes of silence. I just shrugged, and Ranger sighed.

"I have Lula," I reminded him.

"Babe."

He had a point. Shooting accuracy issues aside, Lula was not a great partner. She could be flaky, and on more than one occasion, she freaked out and left me behind somewhere.

"I'll drive," I argued. "Then I can't be ditched!"

"I'm putting a man on you."

"What?! No! There's no threat against me! I can't let you bleed money like that when I'm not even in danger!" I insisted.

"Babe, you're in a cast and you're telling me you're going to go after skips."

"I need the money," I argued.

"I'll give you money," Ranger told me.

"I can't let you pay my rent, Ranger."

That was greeted with a few minutes of silence before he said, "I thought you were living with Morelli."

"I am. I have been," I stuttered. "I just need my space."

Ranger took that in with more quiet brooding, and I got lost in thought about the two men in my life. Ranger once told me that he sometimes thought about marrying me, though when pressed it sounded more like having me move in with him. And even then he wasn't really interested in that either.

He was still trying to fix his karma, and apparently that meant he couldn't have a girlfriend or whatever I would be at the same time.

Karma fixing and girlfriends weren't compatible. Who knew?

"I'll give you a job," he finally said.

"I don't want a pity job," I argued.

"Not pity. You do the job well when you're around. It just drives you crazy before too long," I detected a hint of a smile as he said it.

"Desk chairs give my ass a cramp," I told him.

"Babe," Ranger retorted. That time I definitely had amused him.

He pulled to a stop and I realized we were a couple blocks away from Morelli's house, and I couldn't help but read into the fact that Ranger had brought me to Joe. I mean, I'd just said I didn't really want to live here anymore. Ranger could have taken me back to my apartment and pushed his luck. Tried to get me to sleep with him. But he didn't.

Instead of saying anything, I just sat there quietly as he took the stack of papers and files off my lap and started flipping through them. When he was done, he simply said, "Jason?"

"My dad's former co workers son. It's probably nothing, just overprotective parents. I'm just going to get eyes on him so I can tell them he's fine."

Ranger stared at me for a long moment, our eyes locked. Finally he nodded his head and said, "you're starting tomorrow?"

"Yeah, going to read through all this and come up with a plan first. Maybe make some calls. The usual," I told him.

As I finished talking, a black jeep pulled up and parked right behind us. Another black SUV pulled up next to it. The Jeep's driver got out, leaving the car running. He was dressed in Rangeman black fatigues, and climbed into the second black SUV. They drove off, leaving the Jeep behind.

It was for me.

Rangeman car service valet.

I cut my eyes over to Ranger and he was looking ahead saying, "if you're going to drive with that leg, you can't do it with the Buick."

Remembering how difficult it had been to do just that, I decided to just agree and let it go. It wasn't a fight worth having. Gathering my papers back from Ranger, I offered him a small smile, and quietly said, "thanks."

Then I climbed out, got into the Jeep, and drove the two blocks to Morelli's. Ranger followed me, and idled at the curb watching me all the way to the front door and left as I opened it.

Inside Morelli was watching a Rangers game, but he looked up and out through his front window and started furiously changing channels.

"What's with the Jeep?" He asked. "And where were you?"

"I went over to my parents' house to borrow Big Blue after my doctor's appointment. Then I went to the bonds office. The doctor said I can start moving around as I'm able, so I need to get back to work."

Morelli switched off the TV, and I could practically see him start gaining a whole head of mad.

"Your leg is broken, Cupcake," he pointed out.

"Not anymore. It's healed well, and this brace is more to keep me from rebreaking it than anything else."

"You're a terrible bounty hunter," he told me, eyes narrowing. "You're going to get yourself killed if you try to do it with a broken leg!"

Oh boy, his arms were starting to wave as he stood up, face getting redder as he spoke.

"I'll have Lula do all the physical stuff. I'll just to research and be her backup from the car."

I thought it was better not to mention that Ranger or one of his men would likely really be doing the heavy lifting.

Morelli wasn't fond of Ranger. Morelli had been around the block enough times himself to recognize someone else who was interested in what Morelli considered his own territory.

He also worried that Ranger didn't see the world in terms of lawful and unlawful. Ranger had his own code of morality, and sometimes things that Ranger deemed necessary or right weren't legal, strictly speaking. Morelli worried what would happen if I was standing too close to Ranger if he got caught doing something morally right but legally wrong.

"Why can't you just stay home?" Morelli asked.

"Because I need money! I need a place to live and food to eat!"

"You live here, and you eat here!" Morelli's arms started waving again.

"Yeah, but I have an apartment and I need to pay rent!" Honestly I didn't see why he didn't understand that.

"But why? I don't understand why you don't just get rid of your apartment and move in here!" Morelli was getting in my space, and he was clearly thinking he was about to win and be rewarded with sex.

"I have a good deal on my apartment. I'm still paying the same amount of rent as when I first moved in, and if I move in here and then have to move out, I won't be able to afford an apartment!" I told him.

"But—" he started to argue and I lost it. I was going straight to the point.

"Why aren't we married? Huh? What you're describing is a stay at home wife, and I can't be that for a couple of reasons, but first of all, I'm not your wife! Or even take it back a step! Why aren't we even engaged? You said we were engaged to be engaged and then nothing!" Now  _my_  arms were flapping around, probably making me look like a crazy lady.

"Cupcake, we don't need to be married now. We'll get there," he pulled me in for a kiss, and I struggled back until he let go.

I studied his eyes for a few minutes, and I saw it.

Ranger was right.

Morelli had no intention of actually marrying me. I stood there for a few more minutes, stewing and then I stormed off as best I could with my leg as it was and went upstairs. I grabbed one of the laundry baskets and threw stuff in it randomly. I was pretty sure I had at least one pair of pants and a few shirts. I emptied my lingerie drawer because clean panties were the most important part.

"Where do you think you're going?" Morelli yelled at me.

I didn't answer just stormed out to the Jeep and threw my clothes into the passenger seat. Then I turned around and went back inside. I said goodbye to Bob and walked into the kitchen where my hamster, Rex, was hanging out. I grabbed his tank up and awkwardly hobbled out with it.

"Aren't we going to talk about this?" Morelli called after me from the front door.

I carefully placed Rex on the floor in the back seat and then turned back. "We just did!" I yelled at him.

Then I climbed into the driver's seat and started driving, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.

I knew I should go back to my apartment and get Rex settled in, but honestly I didn't want to walk into an empty home at the moment. Even if it was my home. I drove on autopilot, and parked then looked around for a bit. It took me a couple minutes to realize where I was.

I'd driven to the address Connie had listed on the printouts for Jason. I supposed it couldn't hurt to go up and see if he was home. Maybe talk to a few neighbors if he wasn't there.

I gathered up my messenger bag, exited the car and locked it, then used the remote start to get the engine running again so that Rex would be safe and at a comfortable temperature while I was gone.

Verifying the apartment number, I was grateful that it was on the first floor and I didn't have to hunt for an elevator. Or worse drag my cast up stairs.

I approached the door and knocked, getting an icky feeling in my stomach when the door swung open underneath my fist and revealed a darkened apartment.

"Hello?!" I called out, not really expecting an answer.

I about jumped out of my skin when I did get a response— in part because it was from behind me.

"Hello?" A small brunette woman said from behind me. She looked young, but she definitely was an adult. Still her small, thin frame and the fact that she appeared fresh out of the shower and was barefoot, clearly unarmed set me at ease pretty quickly.

"Oh, hi. I was supposed to be meeting Jason," I told her forcing a big smile on my face even though I my mind was going a mile a minute, counting seconds that ticked by with no response from within Jason's apartment.

She looked ready to question me further, so I pulled my phone out and pretended to just see a new text message. To the woman I said, "Oh, I missed a text from him telling me to just come in and wait. I guess he had to run out for a couple things real quick!"

I hustled in before she could say anything, shutting the door behind me and trying to act casual. Since my phone was out, I set a five minute timer for myself. I wanted to be out within five minutes, just in case that woman doubted me as much as she seemed to- I didn't really want to have to deal with the police at this point.

Bounty hunters had some rights to enter private property if, for instance they thought an FTA was inside. But Jason wasn't a skip, he didn't even know me, and I was definitely trespassing.

I ran my hand along the wall next to the front door, finding a lightswitch pretty easily. Of course, then I switched it up and nothing happened.

"Okay, Stephanie. No big deal. You have a flashlight in your bag," I told myself. "You can use that. I'm sure that the power outage is just a weird coincidence. As is the fact that this apartment is so dark in the of middle of the afternoon. Definitely nothing nefarious happening here. Maybe he just switched to a night shift… at the coffee shop he works in that closes at 4… so he has to sleep during the day..."

Okay, as pep talks go, it was kinda weak, but it was all I had as I dug blindly through my messenger bag. When I found my flashlight, I allowed a small sigh of relief to pass my lips.

That moment of reassurance was short lived once I turned the flashlight on and shined it around the room. The windows were covered in foil of all things, which were blocking out the light.

I moved the light along and realized it wasn't just the windows, there was something foil-like lining all the walls of the apartment.

"Okay, so he's a nut," I muttered to myself. "But that doesn't mean something actually happened to him…"

I was believing less and less that Jason was somewhere safe and having fun as I went on. Looking down, I realized that my phone had no reception, which was just perfect.

Here's the thing. I'm not a private investigator. I do have to find people sometimes, but they're usually hiding. A missing person is like a whole different can of worms, and I was rapidly feeling like I was in over my head.

I looked around as quickly as I could. Rather than stopping to read, I just grabbed the few stray papers and post-it notes I found on the kitchen table that he seemed to use as a desk.

I had a really bad feeling about this apartment, and I didn't want to stick around any longer than was absolutely necessary.

On my way back out, I checked the trash. It was rank. Either he was a really bad housekeeper, or Jason hadn't been home for at least a couple days, maybe longer.

I spotted a stack of mail and grabbed that as well. I'd already done the breaking and entering thing, what was a little postal theft on top of that?

Rushing out the door, I saw that the neighbor was standing at the doorway across the hall still. I forced a smile on my face and said, "change of plans!"

I hustled out of the building as quickly as I could, and I didn't wait to start a call on my phone.

"Babe," Ranger said when he picked up. It sounded almost flirty with a hint of we-just-talked thrown in.

"I was just at Jason's apartment, and it was weird," I said without preamble.

"What kind of weird?" Ranger asked instantly, and I could practically hear him straighten up and go on the alert.

"First of all, he had foil- everywhere. It was over his windows, his walls, all throughout the apartment."

"The external walls?" Ranger clarified.

Closing my eyes to bring up the inside of his apartment in my mind and make sure I was remembering correctly, I said, "The walls to the outside as well as the walls next to the neighboring apartments and the hallway."

I'd reached the Jeep, so I moved the phone to the crick of my neck and started trying to find my keys.

"There's a few reasons a person might do that," Ranger said.

I was too busy listening to Ranger and waiting to hear his theories, that I didn't hear any footfalls or notice anyone around me.

I just felt a prick in my neck.

I was pretty sure I managed to slur out an, "I'm sorry" to Ranger, knowing he'd be disappointed that I hadn't been aware of my surroundings.

I felt someone catch me under the arms as I fell, stagger under my weight, lower me part way, and unceremoniously dump me on the ground. That would probably hurt if I wasn't feeling very numb.

"Was that the neighbor?" I thought to myself. I tried to blink to see better since my vision had gone all wavy, but then I couldn't open my eyes back up.

Good night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get an extra chapter today (so I'll still update tomorrow) because I'm so excited to go see Avengers: Infinity War tonight!!!!!
> 
> Hopefully it doesn't totally kill my muse... that HAS happened before.

Ow.

That was all I could think when I woke up. I'd been awake a few times before, but it had been different. I'd been in more of a dreamlike state.

Floating. So much floating.

I remembered the sensation of being moved. I definitely remembered being on a cold metal table, strapped down.

At the time, it hadn't bothered me because, well, I couldn't really feel ANYTHING. But now I was pissed about that. I'd done the whole strapped down to a metal table thing before when someone had been freezing me and it was scary as shit.

I didn't like being strapped to metal tables.

Where was I? I thought I remembered a warehouse or open space from before, definitely wasn't in my Jeep or the hospital or at Rangeman.

Ranger. I'd been on the phone with Ranger. He would know something had happened.

Ranger would go to Connie and get the information on Jason. Maybe she even had a more in depth report at least partially ready. That would be good. That would mean Ranger had more information than I ever had in the first place. He would find me quickly.

Doctors. I thought I remembered doctors. Or scientists maybe. People in lab coats at any rate. Maybe I was in the hospital.

With a groan, I managed to finally get my eyes to open again.

Ow.

Bright. Bad. Eyes open was a bad thing. Taking a deep breath, I made myself open my eyes once more and keep them open this time. I started bargaining with myself. If I could keep my eyes open for five minutes, I would let myself close them again. That seemed fair.

Probably I'd already killed a minute deciding that. Four minutes to go.

I looked around and it definitely wasn't a hospital. Crap. Some sort of garage or warehouse that was being used as a lab. And yep, damn it, there was the cold metal table and straps around me again.

Fuck.

Okay. Wiggling. I could wiggle my fingers and toes, so that had to be a good thing. I didn't see lab coats around.

In fact, I didn't see much of anything. It was weird. The table I was on seemed to be in relatively good shape, but above me was a ceiling that definitely had seen better days. I was no expert, and my vision was still pretty fuzzy, but that looked like water damage to me.

Probably they should get that checked.

"Focus Stephanie," I muttered, instantly regretting it. Almost no sound had come out and my throat now felt like it was ON FIRE.

I looked around some more and noticed that although the ceiling was quite tall, which was what had given me the impression of a warehouse, the area I was in was small. There were actually walls around me, but not real walls. They didn't go up all the way, and they looked like they were made out of some of that industrial corrugated metal.

Had they made this little area for me?

I didn't see my messenger bag or phone lying around anywhere conveniently. So even if I could get off this table, I wasn't going to be calling Ranger for a rescue. And I was in some sort of flimsy gown, so I couldn't hope that he'd stashed a tracker in my clothes somehow or anything.

That's okay, Ranger was basically Batman. He'd found me with almost no clues before, I just had to be patient. He'd find me again.

My stomach growled, and I hoped that he brought doughnuts with him when he did. And cookies. Maybe some pineapple upside down cake.

I decided it had been five minutes, so I let myself close my eyes again. As I lay there, I thought of Ranger. And dessert. Two of my favorite things.

Was it odd that I wasn't thinking of Morelli? Sure, I'd moved out, but we hadn't actually broken up. And even when we did break up, it never stuck. In the past.

I blew out a breath. Morelli was going to be so mad, and I was exhausted even just imagining the fight. It always came down to the same thing. Morelli hated my job, and I wasn't willing to give it up.

If you thought about it, it wasn't even really my job's fault that I was in this position. I mean true, I suppose I'd been picked to look for Jason because I'd theoretically picked up some skills over the years of being a bounty hunter. But Jason wasn't a skip, so really this wasn't a bounty hunter thing.

I don't know if that made it any better though. Probably not. Sometimes I thought that Morelli just liked getting mad at me, maybe that he didn't even really like me that much. I mean, he thought I was a disaster, that was clear. And I was pretty sure he did NOT want to marry me after all. So what was the point even?

The sex was good, but it was better with Ranger anyway. Not that I would tell Morelli that. Or Ranger for that matter.

Ranger was another problem altogether. Together we were magic, but there wasn't really the option of anything long term there.

I blew out a breath because my love life was depressing. It was like a love-triangle but a hopeless one. I was pretty sure that both men loved me at least a little, but I wasn't sure if they were actually IN LOVE with me. At least enough for it to really matter.

I wanted marriage and kids eventually, right? I was pretty sure I did. I definitely wasn't going to find that with Morelli.

Of course, if I didn't get out of my present situation, I'd starve to death and die here, and it would be irrelevant.

With that thought I realized I really didn't regret the way I'd left things with Morelli. I didn't care about Morelli at all. Probably I should try to remember that if I did get out of this.

Now Ranger. How did I feel about Ranger? That was a loaded question-

My train of thought was cut off by the sound of an explosion, and in that moment I absolutely loved Ranger. Not in the romantic, in-love way. But in the friendship way with a healthy dose of gratitude because he was going to get me out of this… whatever… that I was in.

I listened as the sounds of action happening around me increased. There was machine gun fire, more explosions, handguns. I heard yells from time to time and told myself it wasn't Ranger or his Merry Men (what I called the men who worked for him at Rangeman). They were good at what they did. Those yells were definitely the bad guys and not Ranger or my Merry Men.

I had to tell myself that or I was going to freak out.

Then it stopped and there was nothing. I waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing.

"Hello?! Over here!" I yelled. Except I couldn't yell. Because I was so tired, and my throat hurt, and I had no voice. This sucked.

Finally I heard the sound of footsteps getting closer. Things were still kinda fuzzy, but I was pretty sure someone was approaching. I turned toward the sound and saw a figure of a man, and he was huge.

But for some reason I wasn't scared, even when I felt a needle in my skin.

I watched the motion and was confused because it looked like one of his arms was metal. He was undoing the restraints and picking me up, and one arm was definitely harder than the other.

"Who?" I tried to ask, but I felt the slurring starting to happen again and sleep calling me.

When I woke up again, I was warm. There was an all-too familiar beeping sound, and I took a deep breath into my nose and I was pretty sure that was the good stuff. Oxygen. Which meant hospital.

I shifted, wondering to myself why they didn't make hospital beds more comfortable. But then again, it wasn't a metal table, so there was that.

"Cupcake?" I heard, and I couldn't hold back the groan. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I didn't want to deal with Morelli right now. It was going to be a fight; it was going to be ugly.

I felt myself getting more and more worked up, which I could also hear thanks to the handy dandy heart rate monitor I was attached to. Bastard, giving me away.

"Babe?" I heard from the other side.

Ranger. I took a deep breath and let it out, finally opening my eyes.

"Yay," I couldn't stop myself from saying.

"Babe?" I'd amused Ranger with that one. Maybe surprised him a little. Granted, he had a point, I didn't think most people woke up in the hospital happy.

"It doesn't hurt to open my eyes," I told him as I turned in his direction. "Last time it did. Where am I?"

"St. Francis," he told me.

That made sense. I was in the hospital, and I was apparently in Trenton.

"What happened?" I asked.

I startled when I felt the bed start to move, and I gasped, looking over to Morelli's side. He had the remote in his hand and was moving me into a sitting position, not stopping even though I was fairly certain I had groaned. Jerk.

And ugh, he had his cop face on. "Why don't you tell us what happened, Cupcake," Morelli insisted.

"Don't call me that," I spat out. Then I continued, "and I don't know what happened, that's why I asked."

Seriously, what was wrong with him. I'd just woken up from God knows what in the hospital. I was confused. I, well, I actually wasn't very sore come to think of it, but I was definitely discombobulated. That was a fun word. Had he always been this much of a dick, and I just hadn't noticed it?

Morelli made a strangled noise and his face turned red. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked MAD.

"Oh shit," I turned wide eyes toward Ranger but quickly filcked them back toward Morelli not wanting to lose sight of him when he was that mad. Not that Ranger would let anything happen to me. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Maybe you should step outside," Ranger told Morelli diplomatically. "It seems Steph may not want you here."

No, I did not.

Ooops. By the way the red in Morelli's face turned purple I thought I might have said that out loud too. I grimaced and hoped that my face looked at least a little apologetic. And I just waited.

"I need to get her statement," Morelli ground out. "Plus,  _I'm_  her fiance."

I couldn't help it, I audibly scoffed at that. "Like hell you are."

"We just talked about this!" Morelli sounded absolutely incredulous. "You want to be engaged and get married, so you can quit your job. So alright! We're engaged."

I stared at him in fascination for a moment before I said, "Did you just propose?"

Morelli stammered for a moment, "well, not exactly."

"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" My voice had gotten very loud all of the sudden, and it frankly surprised me since I hadn't been able to yell back in that warehouse…

"Well, what the hell do you want from me, Cupcake?!" Morelli yelled back, arms flailing around.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and grounding myself before saying, "I want you to take my statement if you must and then leave me alone. Leave anything you have at your house that is mine at my parents' or the bonds office. I'll get it."

"WHAT?!" Morelli yelled.

"Babe," Ranger said, clearly wary of getting in the middle of what he probably saw as a domestic. "Maybe now isn't the time to be making big decisions."

"I'd already decided," I said stubbornly. "That's why I moved out."

"What is going on here?!" A nurse burst into the room. "Oh! You're awake! They were supposed to call me if you woke up."

"Yeah, Morelli doesn't always do what he says, big surprise," I muttered.

"What the hell, Cupcake? What's that supposed to mean? Is this because I never proposed? I just said we could get married!" Morelli just wasn't letting go.

"You aren't seriously going to marry me," I told him. "And even if you did SUDDENLY want to out of nowhere; I don't want to. We're over. Done. Finished. Take your damn statement and get the hell out of my life."

Morelli was muttering to himself about insane women, but he did turn on his heel and stomp out of the room. As soon as he did, my heart rate noticeably slowed down and I looked over at the nurse. There were alarms going off, and it was really annoying.

She looked dumbfounded, so I quietly and as politely as I could muster said, "could you do something about that?"

Quickly, she turned off the alarms and started taking my vitals. As she did, she said, "I'm so sorry. He said you were his fiancee, so we let him in. Technically, we shouldn't, but he's a cop too. Plus everyone knows you've been living together, and we just figured it was new and you just hadn't made an announcement yet."

Gotta love the Trenton gossips.

"It's fine," I told her. "Just don't let him in again. And feel free to spread the word that we are definitely over."

I heard the door open again, and I looked up, death glare at the ready for Morelli. But it was my friend Eddie Gazzara, a uniform cop who was also married to my cousin Shirley the Whiner. He held his hands up as though to show he wasn't a threat, and when I smiled, he walked the rest of the way in.

"I'm, uh, here to take your statement," he said.

"Were you outside?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered, looking sheepish.

"It's okay. I should have ended it long ago," I told him on a sigh. Then I cleared my throat a little. Ranger silently held out a cup of water with a straw, and I took a sip gratefully before I continued. "Truthfully, I don't think I can be of help here. I don't remember much of anything."

"That's okay," Ranger said using the most soothing voice I'd probably ever heard from him. "Just tell us what you do remember."

"I…" I closed my eyes had a flash of a memory of a lab coat come across my mind and felt myself start to panic a little.

"You're okay," Eddie said calmly.

Taking another deep breath, I forced myself to think. "My dad asked me to look for someone. Jason… uh… Simms. Yeah, Simms. I think that's right. He was the son of one of my dad's former coworkers. His parents thought he was missing, but it hadn't been very long and the cops weren't able to investigate yet."

"I talked to Missing Persons," Ranger cut in. "They didn't have the power to enter his apartment, and there was no sign anywhere that anything had happened to him."

"Did you find him?" I asked.

Ranger shook his head no.

"Okay," I continued. It was all coming back to me, "I went to Jason's apartment. I knocked and the door just swung open on its own. I thought it was odd, and I wasn't going to go in. But then his neighbor across the hall opened her door to ask me what I needed, and I didn't want her to call the cops on me. I made up an excuse and went in. It was… kinda freaky. The place was like covered in some sort of foil. I walked through really quickly and grabbed a few loose papers and things, but it was mostly clean and empty. I rushed out, and I called Ranger on my way to the car."

"Covered in foil?" Eddie interjected.

I was busy trying to remember what happened next, and I heard Ranger explain to Eddie what I had described to him on the phone.

"What happened then?" Ranger prompted.

"I'm not sure," I said slowly. "I remember feeling really weird."

"You said sorry," Ranger said. "Who were you talking to?"

"You," I said softly. "I hadn't been aware of my surroundings like you always tell me…"

I trailed off feeling guilty, and Ranger surprised me by taking up my hand and giving it a gentle but brief squeeze.

"What happened after you felt weird?" Eddie asked quietly.

"I really," I thought hard on it. "I don't really remember. It felt like dreaming, and I don't think I actually could tell you whether it was real or it actually was a dream."

"That's okay," Ranger said. "Just tell us whatever it is. We'll figure this out."

"I remember moving. I'm sure about that. I felt like I was moving."

"That's good," Ranger told me. "You were definitely moved. I tracked your car and I had a man there within 10 minutes. You were gone. Phone and bag on the ground. Jeep door open."

Okay. So maybe I was remembering real things.

With that in mind, I said, "I remember this space… it had tall ceilings, and I thought it was a rundown warehouse. But then I was in a small room with walls that didn't go all the way up. There were people in lab coats. I remember thinking they were either doctors or scientists. But I was sure I wasn't in a hospital."

"Why?" Eddie asked.

"The ceiling looked… old. Damaged. And it didn't smell like a hospital. It smelled dirty." I told him. Then I looked over at Ranger again, and I continued, "I think I woke up a few times. They must have injected me with a sedative or something. I have no idea how long it was. When I woke up there the last time, I was more awake than I had been in the past. I realized I was strapped to a table, and I tried to move, but I couldn't. Then I heard an explosion, and gunshots, and more explosions. I thought Ranger had found me."

"It wasn't me," Ranger needlessly explained.

"No," I squeezed his hand that time to let him know it was okay. "There was a man."

"A man?" Eddie perked up with interest. "Was it one of you captors? Can you describe him?"

"No…" I trailed off. I didn't know why, but for some reason, I didn't really want to tell him about the man. "I'm sorry, I was still feeling the effects of whatever they gave me. I suppose it could have been a woman even, I couldn't really see. But whoever it was came in, and I wasn't scared anymore. But he injected me with something and then picked me up… the next thing I remember is waking up here."

Ranger was watching me closely as Eddie asked some more follow-up questions. When he was done, I was tired, and Eddie took that as his cue to leave. He walked out, and Ranger and I sat there in silence for a full minute.

"Tell me about the man," Ranger prodded. "You didn't tell Eddie everything."

I looked Ranger dead in the eye, and I said, "I didn't get a good look at him. I don't know who it was."

It was the truth, really, so Ranger eventually nodded his head. I wasn't sure if he believed me or not, but he let it go and that was good enough for the time being. I was tired.


	4. Chapter 4

When I woke up the next time, I was still in the hospital, much to my relief. It hadn't been a dream. I looked over at the chair that had last been occupied by Ranger, and I was completely shocked to see my father sitting there watching the TV above the foot of my bed on mute.

The Rangers were playing.

I found the remote with my left hand and pushed the button to come to sitting.

"Hi, Dad" I said with a small smile.

"I'm so sorry, Pumpkin," he replied.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"This happened because you were doing a favor for your old man," he grumbled. Then much to my horror, I saw tear in his eye as he cleared his throat. "I never meant for you to get hurt."

"It's not your fault, Dad," I reached out with my right hand and grabbed his when he returned the gesture. "You didn't know. If anything, it's my fault for not taking the case seriously enough. You said they thought something happened to Jason, and I didn't believe you."

"You didn't know," he responded in kind, offering me a small smile. "I'm glad you're okay."

"How long," I trailed off, unsure of how to ask. "Eddie took my statement earlier, but I didn't have a chance to ask any questions of my own. How long was I missing?"

"Eleven days," he told me. "Longest eleven days of my life."

"Are you sure?" I tried to joke. "Grandma Mazur does live with you now!"

"Don't remind me," he grumbled, offering me a pained smile. "You've been here at the hospital for two days."

"Who found me? Or how was I found?"

I looked up hearing a rap on the doorframe, and breathed out a sigh of relief when Ranger walked in. I'd been half afraid it would be Morelli, and I'd just dreamed of breaking up with him.

"A man dropped you off in the middle of the night during shift change when there was a lot of shuffling around happening and not a lot of paying attention. He left you in the ambulance drop off area in a camera blind spot." Ranger told me. "I've personally watched all the hospital surveillance videos as well as all of the camera angles we could get on any business in a two block radius. There's no sign of you, no suspicious or stolen cars, nothing. No hint of who the man was other than one shot of his outline from across the driveway of the hospital, and you can't see anything other than that it appears to be a large man carrying a smaller form. Didn't catch him on the way back."

"Must have been the man that saved me," I told him. "He was big."

"Do you know who it was, Steph?" My dad asked a little too eagerly. I had a feeling Ranger had asked him to ask me that question.

"No," I calmly replied. "As I told Ranger and Eddie, I couldn't really see him and I was still feeling the effects of whatever my kidnappers had me on. All I know is that he was big."

"How do you know he 'saved' you?" Ranger asked. "Maybe he worked for them and was in charge of making you go away."

In my mind, I flashed back to that moment. Only this time I was surprised to find that it was clearer. I could actually clearly see the man in my mind, and I was absolutely convinced I knew who it was. If I closed my eyes, I could practically feel his metal arm under me again.

But I didn't tell them that. Instead, I kept my eyes closed in memory and I sniffed. Opening my eyes I told them forcefully, "he smelled like gunpowder. Fire. Blood. And it was so quiet. He killed them all, and he took me out of there. He saved me."

Ranger went on alert, "you remember more. What else do you remember? Forget the man for now, we'll leave that be. Do you remember anything else about where they had you?"

"Did you not find it? How many explosions could there have been in Trenton that night?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"None that were reported," Ranger explained. "No gun fights other than the usual gang activity either."

"So then, I wasn't in Trenton?" I asked.

"You tell me," Ranger prompted.

I closed my eyes and thought on it really hard. Finally I admitted, "sorry, I have no idea. I don't remember anything outside my little room, and all I could really see there was the table I was on."

"That's okay," Dad reassured. "If that changes, you'll let the cops know. But it's okay."

Much to my surprise, my father fixed Ranger with a glare pretty much daring him to disagree. And Ranger kept quiet.

"Stephanie probably needs more rest now," my father insisted.

Ranger inclined his head toward my father and left with nothing more than a quick, "Babe" to me.

"That was impressive, Dad," I said when I heard the door click shut.

"I heard about Morelli," he told me. "Wanted to make sure nobody was trying to pressure you into anything you don't want."

I winced a little at Morelli's name, but to my dad, I said, "I appreciate that. It's not like that with Ranger though. He's a friend."

My dad looked at me highly skeptical, but what he said was, "I took care of paying your rent for the next month." He wouldn't make eye contact with me as he said, "since I know you didn't get paid while your leg was broken, and you didn't get any work done before you did this favor for me and got kidnapped so you weren't making any money then."

"Oh, you didn't have to—" my father just shot me a look I hadn't seen since I was a kid that told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't believe me. So I smiled slightly and simply said, "thanks."

He stood up and said, "now, how would you like to get out of here?"

I startled a little and looked around. "I can go?" I asked. "Just like that."

"The Doctor was here right before you woke up and signed the discharge papers. I can call them back if you'd like, but they said there was absolutely nothing wrong with you when you came in. A little dehydration, which they've treated, and you were clearly drugged but that's worked its way out of your system enough. You might be extra sleepy for a couple more days, so you should be careful driving or operating heavy machinery, but that's it. I came in the cab, and you can come home or I'll take you to your apartment. There's clothes for you in the bathroom."

I stood, and he said, "I'll get the car and bring it to the pick up."

I knew where that was. I'd been here before. So I walked into the bathroom and changed. When I came out, a nurse was waiting with a smile and a wheelchair. I was too excited to be getting out with so little fuss that I didn't even argue about the chair.

As I settled into it, I asked, "what about my leg? Did you take off my cast? Do I not need one anymore?"

"What?" She asked, looking puzzled and going through my chart. "We thoroughly X-rayed you and ran a bunch of tests when you first came in. I don't see anything here about a broken leg. Does your leg hurt?"

Thinking about it, I was surprised to realize it did not.

"No," I told her truthfully. Then because I did NOT want to stick around and do more tests or risk them putting me back in the cast, I said, "must have finished healing then!"

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, glad when she seemed to buy it and started wheeling me to freedom.

It wasn't the craziest thing ever, it had been almost two weeks since I'd been moved from the cast to the brace, and that was right when I could be re-evaluated by the specialist. Not that I'd been planning to pay for another doctor's appointment I had figured I would just take the brace off and see if my leg hurt or not.

At least now I knew for sure it was fine, and I didn't need to worry about  _that_  anymore! I needed to remember to call and cancel my follow-up appointment.

It was late when we went outside, and I was pleased to see my father waiting with the cab as promised. The nurse helped me in to the passenger seat, and then set a bag with my personal effects at my feet. As my dad started driving, I pulled it open.

Inside was my messenger bag, which Ranger had recovered. A quick check told me that he'd charged my stun gun and loaded my gun, and both of those were in the bag. I was all ready to go.

I had my dad drive me to my apartment, and after giving him a quick hug, I hopped out. I was glad to be home. Hopefully someone had fed Rex while I was gone.

I noticed a black Jeep parked in the parking lot, and when I pulled my keys out, I clicked the lock button on the fob attached to them. The Jeep honked its horn in acknowledgement.

Rangeman valet car service.

I took the elevator up to my floor and walked up to my door. I carefully undid the locks, and I pulled my taser out just in case. I was sure Ranger had made sure it was secure while I was missing and probably again once I was found. But he might not have been by in the last two days— I wasn't sure he knew I'd been discharged.

And I'd just been kidnapped. A little caution was probably warranted.

I opened the door and walked in, allowing it to shut loudly behind me.

I stood frozen for a moment, brain trying desperately to catch up with what I saw in front of me.

There was a man in my apartment. He was naked, except for a towel around his waist. A quick look around told me he'd made himself at home, and a second look at him told me he was gorgeously built. Even with the scars all over one side of his chest and up to where his metal arm attached at the shoulder.

He unfroze first and tried to shift to look unthreatening.

"It's okay; you don't have to be scared. I'm not here to hurt you." He looked so apologetic. "Sorry! Let me just get dressed, and then I'll get out of here. I didn't think you'd be back. At least not this soon. Don't be scared."

It was the second plea for me to not be scared that got me out of my stupor.

"It's okay," I rushed to tell him. "You can stay. I'm not scared of you."

The only way to describe the look on his face was haunted as he asked, "you're not?"

"I know who you are. I've read the SHIELD files that were released on the Internet. I know what was done to you." The hope I'd seen in his eyes was gone in a blink until I said, "plus, you saved my life. You can stay."

He stared at me for a few seconds, face carefully blank, then apparently saw whatever he needed to see in mine to know I was serious and nodded. He reached over onto what was definitely not the same couch that had been here when I last visited my apartment to grab a pile of clothes.

When the bathroom door shut behind him, I let out a shaky breath and stumbled my way over to the couch and flopped down.

No big deal. It was just the Winter Soldier, aka James Buchanan Barnes (my favorite of the Howling Commandos when we'd studied them in school) turned assassin by HYDRA. In my apartment.

"It's not okay," his voice said, causing me to jump because I hadn't heard him come back at all. "You are afraid!"

I cracked an eye open and said, "surprised. Not afraid. I was not expecting you here when I walked in."

He nodded to where I still had my stun gun clenched in a death grip in my hand, and I looked at it then immediately released it with an apologetic smile.

"You were expecting someone," he said simply.

"Oh this?" I said, putting the stun gun in question away in my bag.

He frowned and took my bag from me, then walked over to the charger on my kitchen counter, retrieved the stun gun, and plugged it back in. It would definitely still be charged the next time I left.

He turned back to me and was clearly waiting for an explanation so I shrugged and said, "people break in ALL the time, and I  _was_  just kidnapped. Figured I should make sure nobody dangerous was here when I got back."

The look on his face clearly said that he considered himself dangerous, and I just waved him off with a, "you're a good guy, so you don't count."

He stared at me again, and I knew I'd surprised him again. Finally he said, "not a lot of people would agree with you. In fact, I don't think there's anyone in the world who would agree with you."

"Not even Captain America?" I asked.

His face went stony again, and he asked incredulously, "you know Steve?"

"What?!" I was baffled. "Of course not. Just. You were his best friend, right?"

"If you know who I am, you know what I did. He of all people knows just how dangerous I am."

"I dunno," I argued, turning my back on him and walking over to the fridge out of habit. Opening the door, I continued, "there's a lot of people on the Internet who say that nobody but you could have pulled Captain Rogers out of that river with all those flying aircraft carrier things crashing down and gotten him out safely."

The fridge was, predictably empty, since I hadn't lived here in weeks. But — "What am I supposed to call you?" I asked.

He looked startled by the sudden change of topic, "Bucky works for me if it works for you, Doll."

"Sure," I agreed. "And it's Steph."

Bucky was pointing to the spot Rex's cage usually sat. There was a note from Ranger saying that Rex was at Rangeman until I was ready to pick him up. That was all the note said, but under it was a few hundred dollars in cash. I sighed, but picked it up and walked over to shove it in my bag.

"Boyfriend?" Bucky asked.

"Friend," I answered. "Ish. It's complicated. A few times he's been more, but it's not really anything. He cares about me though, and he knows I was basically out of money before this happened."

"I didn't take any. That's all of it," he reassured me.

"I didn't really think you had, but if you did it would have been because you needed it and that would have been fine. You staying?" I asked. He looked awkward, so I said, "you are more than welcome to, I'm just trying to decide how many pizzas to order."

"Three," he said. Then went over to a backpack on the floor and started pulling out fucking STACKS of cash. "I can pay."

I waved him off, though I was sure I was looking at him with bug eyes because he chuckled a little.

That chuckle should have been sexy, and I mean, I'd seen him basically naked and he looked GOOD. But I didn't feel anything sexual toward him, and it was honestly freaking me out a little.

Had my kidnappers somehow… damaged… me?

I shook my head and blinked back into focus when Bucky snapped his metal fingers in front of my face.

When I looked up at him, he ran his hand through his long hair and said, "I can find somewhere else to stay. I just hadn't found anywhere in Trenton yet, and when I checked on you at the hospital, everyone was talking about how you and some guy named Morelli were engaged and you'd been living with him. So I figured your apartment would be vacant for a little while. I was just going to stay long enough to make sure you were safe."

"Why do you care?" I asked. "Do you know who had me? Why were you there?"

Once the questions started, they just kept popping into my head.

His mouth twitched into a crooked grin, and I realized that the kidnappers definitely hadn't killed it. I just wasn't super drawn to him, but I could still appreciate his aesthetic and see it.

"Why don't you order the pies," he said. "Then, once we've eaten, we can put our heads together and see if we can figure out what's going on."

I called in the pizza order then took a quick shower while waiting for it. When the delivery man showed up, Bucky stashed his stuff out of sight and took up a position just around the corner from the foyer, presumably ready to spring into action in my defense if necessary.

We ate in silence, and I figured he must be hungry at the rate he plowed through slices. Then again, he'd been living on the run, and meals might have been infrequent.

I managed to hold my tongue when I was done eating until his pace at least slowed down.

"Soooo…" I started. "Were you following me?"

Bucky shook his head and around a mouthful of pizza said, "nah. I have ears in a few locations of interest. I can't listen to all of them real-time, plus I was trying to dodge other interested parties. Took me a few days to realize they had a prisoner on site at that location. Though I'd eliminated their last location, so it wasn't a surprise. Figured I should go in and see if I could get you out."

"Thank you," I replied automatically.

I didn't get the impression that Bucky  _usually_  talked very much, and I was surprised with how forthcoming that was. Still I had more questions I figured I should ask while he was feeling chatty.

"Who are 'they'?" I asked. It seemed like the obvious next step.

"Not sure," he told me with a shrug. "I was not terribly interested in them. I was following a supplier, trying to find a lead on a different customer of theirs. Got ears in that location because it was convenient at the time, but I didn't check all that often because they weren't my primary target."

"I'm confused," I told him. "You're being all vague and mysterious. This supplier. What do they supply and to who? For what?"

"People," he said bluntly. "I don't think they care what they are used for. They just fill orders. Though they do seem to specialize in specimens for experimentation."

I pushed my chair back and put my head between my knees as everything went fuzzy.

"Was I experimented on?" I asked him.

"Do you not know?" He asked, curiosity peaked.

Shaking my head I said, "I don't remember anything really between getting taken and you finding me. Just some people in… lab coats…"

I trailed off and went back to hyperventilating.

"This isn't good," I said. "I was experimented on? What did they do to me?!"

When I just received a blank stare and shrug, I freaked out more.

"Chocolate, I need chocolate," I declared. "Or ice cream. Doughnuts! Cookies!"

I stood and grabbed my bag with the cash Ranger had left me and my car keys in it. Then I stormed out of the apartment leaving a baffled former assassin behind.

At least I was pretty sure it was former...


	5. Chapter 5

Two stops and a couple bags of comfort food (what? I had to share with a man who had a hollow leg… or arm I suppose...) later, I pulled back into my parking lot. I was excited to see a parking spot close to the building available until I noticed the black porsche 911 Turbo also in the lot.

Fiddlesticks.

Grabbing all the bags quickly, I rushed out of the Jeep, barely stopping to lock it. I took the stairs to save time and was out of breath by the time I made it to my open apartment door.

I approached slowly and cautiously, relieved when I saw a lack of blood.

Of course, there were two men wearing ferocious looks on their faces, guns drawn as they stood across the room from each other.

"Okay, let's just cool it down a minute," I said.

Slowly I stepped into the apartment, and neither man so much as spared me a look.

Yeesh. Rude.

I waited a few seconds more, but neither man seemed willing to back down first. So what else was girl to do? I walked past Ranger who was just inside my front door. Halfway between the two men, I took a step sideways so that I was between them.

"Babe," Ranger said.

I couldn't see his expression because I had chosen to stay facing Bucky, but my guess was that he wasn't happy. Ranger didn't like it when I got in the way of him protecting me.

Probably Ranger had lowered his gun because I thought Bucky had relaxed ever so slightly. Bucky, however, had not lowered his gun. In fact, he raised it enough that I thought he had Ranger sighted above my shoulder now.

Ranger was only half a head taller than me, so it would be a tight shot, but then again, I could only assume he was able to make it.

Raising a hand slowly, I put it in the space the gun was pointing until Bucky finally lowered the gun. The look that crossed his face could only be described as exasperated.

"He broke in," Bucky said as though that explained everything.

"He does that a lot," I answered. "You get used to it."

Tension seemed high, so I stayed where I was but I turned sideways so I could look over at Ranger now. I made the turn slowly, watching Bucky out of the corner of my eye to make sure that his gun stayed pointed down. I wasn't expecting either of them to actually put their guns away for the time being.

Somehow I was still mostly being ignored, but I observed with interest as Ranger addressed Bucky, "you know who I am."

My head whipped over to Bucky so fast it was like I was watching a tennis match, but I didn't catch his nod.

"I know who you are," Ranger told Bucky after more silence.

I looked behind Ranger and saw that the door was still wide open. Thankfully my neighbors were all elderly so they weren't apt to wandering in and out at all hours. Still, it was dumb to tempt fate. I was pretty sure Bucky was in hiding.

"Well, I'm going to shut the door," I announced. "We probably don't want to have this conversation where others are so easily able to eavesdrop."

So saying I walked over and started shutting the door, gently hitting Ranger with it repeatedly until he finally said, "Babe," and stepped forward.

"Thank you!" I smiled sweetly at him.

Then I walked back over to where I had dropped the bags in the middle of the living room, but Bucky rushed forward and picked them up for me before I got there. He set them down in the kitchen then, much to my surprise, walked back over and retrieved his pack from where it was my living room.

He brought it back over to the kitchen table and sat with it at his feet, clearly not wanting Ranger able to get his hands on it.

I started unloading groceries onto the counter. Without asking either man if they wanted any, I pulled down two bowls.

Into the bottom of each bowl, I put a brownie. On top of that, I layered some chocolate chip cookies. Then I started scooping ice cream on top. I topped it off with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. From the drawer next to the sink, I pulled out two spoons and stuck them in each bowl.

Then I picked up the bowls and walked over to the table. I set one bowl down in an empty spot to Bucky's left and sat there. The second bowl I slid in front of Bucky.

"Babe," Ranger said.

I was pretty sure that one was a combination of "that stuff will kill you" because that's what he always said about sweets and "you're feeding this guy?"

I cut my eyes over to Ranger and through a full mouth said, "help yourself."

"Babe," Ranger said with a sigh. Then he took the seat across from Bucky and tensely sat down.

"He says that a lot," Bucky finally said.

I snorted into my bowl but just kept eating. Honestly, I'd gotten dessert because of the stress, and this little testosterone show down was not making me feel any less stressed.

I finished my bowl and sat eyeing it contemplatively.

If I was done, I'd have to talk probably. About things I didn't really want to talk about. If I had more, however, I could be happy.

Sure, the happy would be short lived, but it would be very real while it lasted.

Of course before any of this happened, I was having a hard time buttoning my pants. Turned out that mostly sitting on your ass for 6 weeks while healing from a broken leg wasn't great for the figure.

At least my leg wasn't broken anymore. Or something. I didn't have a cast on anymore and the hospital had found no signs of a break, and while I initially THOUGHT that was because it had just healed on its own, I was a little worried about other possibilities if I had been experimented on.

"Shit," I finally said.

"Care to share with the class?" Ranger said.

"I'm a disaster. No matter how hard I try to be a good bounty hunter, keep my head down, just do the job, weird shit always finds me! Why me?!" By the end I was practically yelling. Thankfully my arms weren't waving around.

Neither man said anything so I blew out a breath and added with a pout, "it was my father asking for my help! What was I supposed to do? Say no? It was my FATHER."

Ranger clearly sensed that I was on the verge of an emotional meltdown so he sidestepped the issue of my life on a whole and addressed Bucky instead, "you're the one who found her."

Bucky didn't answer. Of course, it really hadn't been a question. Instead, he stood and collected both his bowl and mine.

That horrible silence filled the apartment again and I listened to the sounds of Bucky washing the dishes then putting away all the groceries while I attempted to have a silent conversation with my eyes with Ranger.

I was trying to tell him to just drop it and leave, and he was telling me that I was crazy if I thought he would leave me with The Winter Soldier without more information than that.

"Why didn't you tell me who saved you?" Ranger finally asked me out loud.

I was pretty sure Bucky froze for a fraction of a second in the process of sitting down, but I didn't know him well enough to say for sure.

"You knew the whole time?" he asked gruffly. "Not just when you found me?"

I shrugged and said, "I read about you after the whole D.C. helicarrier fall of SHIELD thing. I was pretty sure I recognized the arm. Also you were my favorite Howling Commando in school."

I shit. I'd said that last part out loud.

Bucky leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest and smirked at that.

"Shut up," I told him. "Not like that. You were obviously no good. You just seemed like the most fun from the stories."

Ranger scoffed and said, "Morelli was no good. Good guys are not your type."

Left unspoken was the fact that Ranger wasn't a good guy either— at least not in the traditional sense.

"Low blow," I made a face at him and stuck my tongue out in retaliation.

Rangers eyes flashed hot, and I immediately thought places on Ranger that my tongue had been in the past. Places his tongue had been.

I flushed red and pulled my tongue back into my mouth, turning to face Bucky who was watching our interaction with interest.

"Plus, I watched all the senate hearings with the Black Widow," I added trying to get the conversation back on track.

Bucky stared at me blankly, so I added, "I thought she might be cooler than Wonder Woman."

"What?" He asked.

"I kind of always wanted to be Wonder Woman."

Bucky didn't really look like he knew what to say in response to that.

"Mostly I was just trying to keep Stevie out of trouble," he told me, and it took me a minute to realize that he was responding to me thinking he seemed like fun and a bit of a bad boy.

I mouthed "Stevie" to myself and felt my brain start to overheat trying to equate Captain America with "Stevie."

It did not compute.

I decided it was hopeless so instead I said to Ranger, "it didn't seem important, and I thought he might be a little bit wanted. Which is bullshit because none of that was his fault, so I figured that if I didn't tell anyone about him that was my way of thanking him for saving me. I didn't know I'd see him after."

"Why are you here?" Ranger asked Bucky at that.

Bucky shrugged, "I needed somewhere to stay for a few days so I could look into things further. I thought she'd be in the hospital a bit longer, and rumor had it she was living with the cop anyway."

"So you've already been here for two days?" Ranger asked.

Bucky inclined his head slightly in response.

A thought popped into my head and I narrowed my eyes at Bucky demanding, "was I one of the things you were looking into? Were you snooping?"

"Didn't need to, really," he said.

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

"It isn't difficult to get information on you. All I had to do was listen."

I blew out a breath. Stupid Trenton. Stupid Burg. Stupid gossips.

"I thought you didn't care about who had me; you were after someone else." I said, ignoring Ranger's stormy expression as he started wondering just how much I knew. "Why even bother finding out more about me? What else are you looking into?"

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, "I wanted to figure out if you were still at risk," he finally said. "Already saved you once, it was going to be a waste of time and good ammunition if I had to do it again."

I gave him a death glare, "I can take care of myself."

The look I received in return clearly said that if that were true, he wouldn't have had to save me in the first place.

The conversation lapsed again for a few more minutes, until Ranger prompted Bucky with, "if you know who took her, tell me. I'll take care of this. You can go on your way."

Bucky visibly bristled at the dismissal, "I'm already on it," he told Ranger.

And now it was devolving into another pissing contest.

"Men!" I said throwing my hands up in disgust.

Ranger was apparently unwilling to drop it and said, "I'm sure you need to move on. After all, you want to make sure nobody finds out where you are."

Every inch of Bucky's body pulled tight at that. I couldn't tell if he was ready to fight or flee, but I was a little worried he'd shatter from the tension that filled his body.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I leaned over and poked Ranger with a finger. "You're not going to turn him in."

I was telling Ranger that, not asking, but he went blank face and didn't say anything more.

"Get out," I told Ranger.

Ranger looked at me in complete shock and he asked, "Babe?"

"I'm serious, Ranger," I told him standing up and pulling him up by his shirt.

Of course, I couldn't really move Ranger if he didn't want to be moved. He was letting me move him, which I continued to do. Right back to the door and out of it.

"This man saved my life," I said sternly. "You will not threaten him, and you will NOT turn him in."

Stepping back, I slammed the door in Ranger's face. Then I audibly clicked all the locks shut and slid the bolt back into place.

Of course, locks meant nothing to Ranger. He had a way with them. I'd yet to see a lock that could keep Ranger out. But it was the principle of the thing.

I turned back around saying, "I'm so sorry-"

I stopped short. The living room behind me was empty. No backpack, no stray items, no nothing. No sign that Bucky had ever been there.

I was pretty sure I knew what I would find, but I called out to Bucky anyway then when I got no response, I quickly checked to see if he was in my bedroom or bathroom.

I even looked in my closet.

No Bucky.

I walked back into the living room for a few moments and stood there, looking around, hands on hips.

Finally deciding that I wasn't going to get any more answers that night, I gave up and went back into the kitchen. I opened the freezer and pulled out the rest of a tub of ice cream glaring at the stack of money that was hidden behind it.

I went back to the couch I didn't recognize but hadn't had a chance to ask Bucky about and dug my spoon into the ice cream while turning on the TV.

What? Don't judge me. My life was a disaster, and who knew what was going to happen next. I was out of ideas of what to do for the rest of the day, I mean I had no real information to go on to try to figure out what happened to me.

Better to just relax, maybe go to sleep a little early. Maybe the answers would come to me in my dreams.

It was possible.

Crazier things had happened, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I borrowed some extra stuff from Marvel in this chapter reading the wikis when I was doing research and brainstorming at the beginning of deciding to write this fic. Just in case it isn't crystal clear to you though, this is ABSOLUTELY NOT canon compliant for the actual comics.

I woke up and let out a heavy sigh.

So much for the magically remember things in my sleep plan. That was a big old zero in the dream memory column.

I stumbled from my bed into the bathroom that was attached to my bedroom and doused myself in the shower to try to clear the cobwebs. I may not have remembered anything, but I DID sleep well.

Maybe it was related to whatever sedatives I had been given, and I'd remember tonight when I went to bed.

Okay, Steph. You just woke up. You can't already be thinking of sleep.

I turned off the shower and stepped out, realizing that I smelled coffee in the kitchen. I figured it was Ranger trying to get back on my good side with coffee.

Much to my surprise when I walked out of my bedroom, I found Bucky sitting at the table. In front of him was a giant plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. To his left was an empty place setting with a more reasonable portion of the food, presumably for me.

I raised a brow at him but walked over and took a seat.

"What's the deal with all the food?" I asked around a mouthful of my own. Then, not wanting to be rude, I added, "and thanks for cooking."

"You said you read my file, right?" he asked.

"What was available," I told him.

"Back before the Howling Commandos, I was captured by HYDRA. Well, we all were, that's how we met, but I was experimented on. Then Steve came and rescued us all, and I didn't really realize anything was different. Near as I can tell from what I've been able to find out these last few months hunting down HYDRA, I was given some sort of serum. It was mostly a failure at that point, but it helped me survive the fall out of the train and off the cliff."

"The one that everyone thought killed you," I said slowly.

Bucky nodded, not looking nearly as upset as I thought I would if that had happened to me. "HYDRA found me, saved my life, but I lost my arm. Then they experimented on me more over the years. More serums. Memory wipes. Brainwashing. Anything they could think of. You name it."

"Do you have any superpowers?" I asked, fascinated. I hadn't seen any mentioned in the file, but he said "anything."

"No," there was a wry twist to his lips at that. "I know they've dabbled in that here or there, but I think they didn't have any solid leads on that until the last couple decades. They weren't willing to risk me on something that might kill me. And even if they weren't worried about killing me, I don't think they wanted to run the risk that I'd be able to over power them."

"Or maybe they were worried your memory would come back or something," I added.

Stupid Stephanie. Way to bring that up.

Bucky didn't seem offended though, just nodded.

"Was it HYDRA that brought you to Trenton?" I asked.

I didn't know how long he would stick around this time, and I had questions I needed answered.

"Yes and no," he said.

"That clears things up," I muttered.

"After D.C., I didn't know what to do. I spent time trying to figure out who I was, sort through memories, put them in order," he spoke quietly, but I could still clearly hear him. "When I remembered anything in particular about HYDRA like the location of labs or bases, I would check to see whether or not they had been taken care of."

"The Avengers have been cleaning up," I acknowledged. Details in the news were sketchy, but that much was clear to anyone who paid even minimal attention.

Bucky clearly agreed, so he continued, "some of them I went after. Others I left hints or arranged for tips to be sent in about them."

"Seems like they've mostly been over in Europe and Asia," I commented.

Bucky grinned at that. I was pretty sure he was enjoying sending the Avengers, or maybe specifically Captain America, on wild goose chases.

"I'm trying to fly under the radar," he confirmed. "I followed a lead into Trenton. Usually I don't stay more than a few hours, I just gather information and get out. I circle back if I need to after I review the information, but there was this little mom and pop shop. They were nice when I came in right at closing. Didn't rush me along or hassle me, just waited while I got whatever I needed. Anyway, I showed up a few minutes late the next day hoping they'd still be there and let me in real quick. There were these men-"

He stopped for a moment, so I prodded, "gang or mob?"

"Gang," he spat the word out.

"You cleared them out?" I asked. When he nodded, I added, "and then?"

"They mentioned a couple other shops that were having a similar problem."

"You ran off a gang. Alone. Without getting noticed by the police?"

He just shrugged, and I decided that wasn't really relevant at the moment.

"What about HYDRA?" I asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment and said, "I told you I was tracking a source of human test subjects- it was because I thought HYDRA was a customer of theirs. I still think that is true, but they had a larger setup here in Trenton. So I had to follow multiple clients to figure out which might be HYDRA and which were something more."

"What is the company?" Bucky hesitated, and I thought maybe he was worried about me. So I cut off that argument saying, "I'm already involved in this."

"They're called Sojourn Enterprises," he finally told me. "They'd been linked with various bad business through the years- Hammer Industries, Ten Rings, and more. They're international, and SHIELD thought that they were defunct after their founder died. But I found evidence that the HYDRA agents who had infiltrated SHIELD knew differently and were concealing it from SHIELD."

"Okay," I said. This was already feeling convoluted. "So Sojourn Enterprises is a company that does human trafficking, and they're based in Trenton but have an international network?"

Bucky laughed at that, "human trafficking, drugs, weapons development and dealing, corporate espionage, there isn't much that they don't have a way of getting for you. Think of them more as procurement specialists who will procure anything. And they aren't based in Trenton, but they do have  _A_  base here."

"And what does this have to do with me?" I finally asked after mulling that information over for a while.

"I'm not sure," Bucky said. When I gave him an unimpressed look, he protested. "No really, I don't know. I found some papers- names, phone numbers, that kind of thing- where you were being held. Some I recognized from Sojourn and others I don't. I'm looking into it. Just lay low for the time being."

"I'm not great at laying low," I told him honestly. "I can do it for like two hours, and then I get bored."

"Try harder," he told me before standing and moving as though to do dishes.

"You cooked, I'll clean," I told him, taking the dishes away from him. When it seemed like he wasn't going to give me any more information anytime soon, I said, "I was surprised to see you this morning. I thought I would never see you again."

"I hoped Ranger would think I was gone and not rat me out. Plus I wanted to look into a few things," Bucky said with a shrug. "See if anyone showed up looking for me."

"And?"

"I'll need to leave soon," he said.

"Why did you even come back?" I asked.

"YOU didn't call the cops," he told me. I already knew that, so I just looked at him a little harder and he added, "I wanted to make sure you weren't suffering any lasting side effects. The sedative I gave you can leave you a little extra tired for a couple days. You have crap security, and it's easy to break in here. I didn't want to leave you here if you were sleeping too hard to wake up if there was trouble."

"Does breaking up with my on/off boyfriend who I might have been engaged to be engaged to count as a lasting side effect? Or running off my sometimes lover?"

"I don't think that was the sedative," he told me. "And you can do better."

"How do you know?" I asked. "For all you know, I'm HYDRA."

"You live in a crap apartment with geriatric neighbors and a pet hamster for company. I can't think of any possible strategic value being here would have. From what I can tell, everyone in Trenton knows who you are, everything you do, and where you live. You're way too high profile. All that adds up to say that you ain't HYDRA."

"Hey!" I protested, pretty sure I should be offended by at least some of that. I mean, it was true that I wasn't HYDRA. But I could be if I wanted to be.

"Why would you want to be?" Bucky asked.

"Well, okay. You have a point," I could feel myself pouting as I added, "but I can do stuff. I'm an alright bounty hunter."

"You're actually better than alright," Bucky countered. "And that's the last thing. Your capture rate is just over 90%. If you were HYDRA, it would probably be lower because you'd be letting people who were HYDRA go."

"It's mostly luck," I told him. I did a mental facepalm because I'd just been trying to convince him I was competent. Pick a side, Stephanie.

Bucky looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, but he just chose to diplomatically shrug instead.

"Why did you drug me?" I blurted out because I'd been wondering about that since I'd found him in my apartment.

"I didn't intend to actually make myself known to you," he told me. "And I was hoping it would keep you from remembering me or identifying me to the police. Buy me at least a couple more days before I had to get out of town."

I dried off my hands after finishing the dishes and didn't say anything more because I thought that was a good enough reason. I mean, I didn't really like being drugged, but he was on the run, so I figured I could forgive him the once.

Then I turned around again, and he was gone.

The man might be even better at that than Ranger was.

I sighed because I would probably never have those kinds of skills and looked around again. He really was gone. With a shrug, I went back to my bedroom.

I had tossed my hair haphazardly up into a ponytail when I smelled the coffee after my shower, but I hadn't done anything more. So I took it down and set about drying it.

Then I applied a layer of lipgloss and mascara. Growing up in the Burg, I'd discovered that lipgloss and mascara were my armor. I could do anything as long as I was wearing my lipgloss and mascara. And I wasn't sure  _what_  the day would hold.

On my way out of the bathroom, my eye caught on something on my nightstand. Tilted my head to the side, trying to remember if it had been there before.

No, it definitely had not.

I approached warily because usually mysterious things were left in my apartment by various stalkers and crazy, and they weren't actually good things.

It looked like some sort of notebook, and I was curious so I picked it up. I opened the first page and found one of my sticky notes inside. It said, "give this to him, and tell him I'm almost ready to come in. I just have to wrap up a couple things."

The note was unsigned, and it made no sense to me, so I turned through the pages, skimming as I went.

My Grandma Mazur had a friend who was a little cooky. Thought she could make love potions and the like. One time she got Grandma Mazur all into dream journals, and Grandma Mazur had, in turn, tried to convince me to do a dream journal.

I'd lasted less than a week, but the contents of this notebook reminded me of that dream journal. If my dreams had been horrific nightmares about me doing things I couldn't have previously imagined. Then a few pages in, the name STEVIE was written at the top of the page. There was a little rough sketch of a scrawny boy and a list below it of random things. "Mother: Sarah;" "Newspapers in shoes;" "asthma;" "enlistment physical - 4F;" "punk;" "movie theater alley."

It switched to more pages of nightmares, but slowly the pages of what had to be memories of Bucky's life before HYDRA came up more and more frequently. I made myself stop reading because Bucky hadn't left it for me. He'd left it for "him," and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew who that was, but I had no idea how he thought I was going to get this notebook to him.

Well, I would just stick it in my cookie jar with my gun for safe keeping until I could figure that out.

I walked out of my bedroom and stopped dead.

"Well, this is awkward," I said, knowing full well that my eyes were practically popping out of my head.

Captain America was towering in my living room, hands on his hips, making the space look way smaller.

"Stephanie Plum?" he asked, voice full of authority.

I hadn't even done anything wrong, but I raised my hands up and was pretty sure I'd have been shaking in my boots if I'd been wearing any.

"Yes?" I finally managed to respond, more question than anything. Then, just to make things worse, I added, "I didn't do it?"

Captain America quirked one eyebrow up and asked, "what didn't you do?"

"Whatever you think I did?" Damnit why did I sound so incredibly guilty? In a rush, I continued, "I actually  _just_  got out of the hospital yesterday. And I was kidnapped for like two weeks before that"

I heard a snicker, but Captain America's face was unchanged. That was when I realized he wasn't alone. I leaned over to peer around him and saw another man and a woman. I was pretty sure I recognized them both from the coverage of what had happened in D.C., which meant…

I looked down at my shirt and flushed before saying, "yep, awkward. Just shoot me now."

I must have been thinking of the conversation the night before when I got dressed that morning. I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt… a Black Widow T-shirt.

It had a cartoon drawing of the black widow and said, "be a hero!" on it, and now the actual Black Widow was in my apartment while I was wearing it.

"Rats," I said with feeling. "I'm just going to go…" I trailed off.

"It's too late," the man whose name I didn't know told me. "She'll already be unbearable for all of us over this."

The woman in question prowled over to me, there was really no other way to describe it. It took everything in me to hold my ground as she approached, and I was proud of myself for not flinching when she whipped her hand out.

I was glad too because she was just offering me a handshake as she said, "hi."

"Hi," I replied uneasily. "I'm Steph."

"I'm Natasha," she told me needlessly. "You can call me Nat. This is Steve, and that one is Sam."

She gestured to each man as she introduced them, and I nodded then took each of their hands in turn when offered.

I was really hoping my palms weren't sweating too badly when I took Steve's hand.

The man was HOT, and I didn't really know what to do with him.

I mean, okay, a few things came to mind, but this didn't really seem like the time. Not to mention, I already had a complicated enough love life.

Plus there was the whole thing with his best friend who had been staying here. And now I had his journal.

And yeah. Best to keep it professional.

Wipe away the dirty thoughts, Steph. This isn't Steve. It's Captain Steve Rogers. Aka Captain America. He had a job to do. He was there for a reason.

"Hi," I said again, hand accidentally lingering in the Captain's.

Captain Rogers smiled at me, and that was not helping my problem. But when he released my hand, I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"You already said that," he told me, not unkindly. Then he added, "now what didn't you do?"

"I don't know! Whatever had you looking so…" I trailed off, unsure of how to describe his utterly formidable appearance when I'd first walked into the room.

So instead, I put my hands on my hips and tried to channel my inner Ranger as I put a scowl on my face. I figured I did an alright job because Sam busted up laughing, and Natasha's previously calculating expression seemed to genuinely relax for a moment.

"We got reports that The Winter Soldier was seen in Trenton," Captain Rogers said. "Then just as we were getting into town, we hear about a big to-do happening across the river in Pennsylvania. We decided to check that out first and found an abandoned aircraft factory blown all to hell."

"Huh," I said. "Pennsylvania?"

"Met anyone new interesting lately?" Sam asked.

"Funny you should say that," I said slowly.

Captain Rogers sucked in a breath expectantly, and I wasn't really sure what to say. So I held out the notebook.

Captain Rogers took it from me, and opened it, reading the sticky note first. He didn't pause to comment though, just started turning pages eagerly.

His face looked so conflicted, and I felt like a voyeur watching, so instead I turned to the other two hoping to give him something approaching privacy as he read.

"Do you need anything? Have you eaten? I think I have… ice cream and cookies? If Bucky didn't eat them all?"

I opened up my fridge, surprised to see that it was fully stocked not just with eggs, bacon, and bread, but with milk, premade meals, and things that looked suspiciously like vegetables.

"Huh," I said. "Are those carrots?"

Sam gave me a weird look, "do you not know what carrots look like?"

"Of course I know what they look like, I just don't really have them… ever. Unless I buy a small bag for Rex or something."

"Who is this Rex?" Natasha asked.

"Oh, he's my hamster. Friends are taking care of him right now because of the whole kidnapping thing, but I'll probably go pick him up today. Bring him home. He's great," I told her with a proud smile.

She looked uncertain, but wisely didn't say anything more on the subject. I didn't care if she was the Black Widow, I would stun gun her if she dissed Rex.

"What are you talking about?" I heard Captain Rogers's voice speak from behind me.

"I don't even know," I murmured. "But the grocery fairy apparently dropped off food while I was asleep, so help yourself."

"Is the grocery fairy Bucky?" Sam asked.

"I'm not actually sure," I told them.

Figuring that they must not want anything to eat or drink at the moment, I shut the fridge and turned to get a glass of water. By the time I was done, I felt a little calmer. So I turned back to the group studying me carefully, and said, "do you want to hear a crazy story?"


	7. Chapter 7

"Yes," Captain Rogers emphatically replied to my offer to tell them my story.

"Wait, how did you know to come here?" I asked, but before any of them could respond, I just waved it off. "Never mind. I'll ask my questions after. Basically I got kidnapped, and Bucky saved me. He gave me a sedative hoping that I wouldn't remember the rescue, but I do. It's my time being kidnapped that I don't remember. He dropped me off at the hospital anonymously and left."

"How do you know he wasn't your kidnapper?" Natasha cut in. "If you don't remember."

My eyes drifted over to Captain Rogers once more. I'd expected him to be upset at the implication, but instead he seemed genuinely interested in my answer and like he had the same concern.

"I mean, I guess I don't  _know_  know, but I am sure of it. I have these vague memories of people in lab coats. Doctors or scientists, I don't know. Not Bucky. I was in some weird warehouse or something like it, not a hospital or a proper lab. And then there were explosions. And a LOT of gunfire. And then silence. I started to get a little worried that maybe everyone was dead on both sides and I was just going to die strapped to a table surrounded by other dead bodies or something. Then he just kinda appeared. He injected me with something then he picked me up to carry me out. Next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital."

"Are you sure it was him?" Captain Rogers asked, focused on me and unblinking.

"I wasn't all that sure, actually. Until I came home from the hospital two days later and found him in my apartment," I shrugged. "He was of the impression I wouldn't be returning to my apartment— at least not anytime soon. And he needed a place to crash, so he was using it."

"We can't leave her here alone," Captain Rogers said. "HYDRA could know he's been staying here."

Sam opened his mouth, then inexplicably cut off, face turning red. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought he had been injured, but I hadn't seen anyone move.

Natasha jumped into the silence saying, "of course we can't. We'll rotate through as a guard. Take shifts."

"Wait a minute," I started to protest. Then I shut my mouth as I heard my front door open.

Nobody at the table moved, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just Ranger.

Except unlike with Bucky, Ranger didn't seem surprised to find Captain America, Black Widow, and Sam… I didn't know if Sam was an Avenger, but there were at the very least two Avengers in my apartment and Ranger didn't so much as bat an eyelash.

"Babe," Ranger said to me. Then he offered everyone else a brief nod.

"You ratted Bucky out," I accused. "It wasn't to the police at least, but you knew he didn't want to be found yet!"

Ranger looked at me briefly. Then he looked to be having some sort of silent conversation with both Natasha AND Captain America.

Suddenly it clicked.

"You son of a bitch!" I jumped up. Ranger turned to me, and I knew I'd startled him, even if his facial expression remained unchanged.

"Babe?" Ranger wanted to know what was wrong.

I smacked my hands on the table and said, "I figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" Sam asked, making no effort to conceal how entertaining he was finding the proceedings. At least he sounded fascinated. But my eyes were locked with Ranger's, and I wasn't looking away. So I couldn't be sure.

"The first time you told me about your other Rangeman offices. Boston, Atlanta, Miami, you said. And you told me you had silent partners. And I guessed the Justice League! You smiled for like half a second, but I saw it. I thought at the time it was because it was a continuation of my Batman joke! But that wasn't it. It was because you had fucking AVENGERS as your partners!"

"Technically the Avengers Initiative had been back-burnered and didn't exist yet when I invested," Natasha said sounding bored. "I was just a regular old spy looking for investment opportunities for some funds I'd… liberated… and I thought of an old special forces friend of a friend."

I was studying Captain America as well, and when I scowled at him, he put his hands up defensively and said, "I had all this back pay from the time I was frozen, and then I was getting a good salary at SHIELD that I wasn't spending. Nat convinced me that I needed to invest some of it, and she spoke highly of Ranger and Rangeman."

"He's a mercenary," I chastised. "And you're Captain America!"

"Babe!" Ranger said. "I'm hurt."

"Oh shut up," I shot back. "You are not."

"Natasha said he could be trusted. And there was that whole thing in… well… never mind."

"Damn it!" I turned a beady eye on Ranger. "The copy of the SHIELD file dump I read was from Rangeman. You already scrubbed yourself out, didn't you?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Ranger deadpanned.

"Oh screw you," I retorted.

"Not with an audience, Babe," Ranger replied steadily.

I flushed bright red, and I may have stuttered a little. I did not know  _what_  to say to that.

"I kissed Cap once," Natasha shared. "To keep our cover while SHIELD, or as it turned out, HYDRA, was hunting us."

Captain Rogers was now the one who was bright red, and he was muttering something that sounded like, "forced yourself on me," and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing when Natasha winked at me.

"You didn't tell me that, Man," Sam complained. "How was it?"

I snorted. Like Captain Rogers would answer that in front of Natasha.

Natasha, it seemed, was shameless though because she made a contemplative face and did the universal hand gesture for something being so-so, and said, "it was alright for an old man. Probably his first kiss since 1945; he's a little rusty. Needs practice."

Captain Rogers just sounded put upon as he said, "it was not my first kiss since 1945! Remember, I told you: I'm 95. I'm not dead. And I don't need practice! It was just you! You're Natasha. I don't think of you that way."

"Mmmmm," Natasha said, sounding like she didn't believe it. But her smirk told me that she was really enjoying making Captain Rogers uncomfortable either way.

"So if you're all secretly invested in Rangeman," I started.

"I'm not!" Sam cut in, raising his hand. "I'm feeling kinda left out, now that you mention it."

"Well, you're the new kid, right?" I reasoned. "Are you an actual Avenger? Do you have a superhero name?"

"Yes!" He said excitedly. "It's Falcon."

"Right, cuz of the wings," I agreed bringing my hands up and making a little flapping motion as I said it.

"It is not this," Sam said using a girly voice repeating the gesture with his hands up by his shoulders like I had done. "It's this!" He used a big, deep voice that time and stretched his arms out as wide as he could and looked more like someone imitating an airplane than a bird.

Captain Rogers huffed out an impatient breath and said, "can we please get back to the matter at hand?"

"Where were we?" I asked having gotten totally sidetracked.

"Tell me about Bucky," Captain Rogers urged. He held up the notebook and asked, "how did he seem?"

"I obviously didn't know him before, but he seemed good. He was friendly when he didn't have a gun pointed at him," I glared at Ranger as I said it. "He was pretty quiet, and I didn't think he'd come back after his confrontation with Ranger, but he did. He wanted to make sure I was safe."

"He eats a lot," I added as an afterthought. "And I have no idea if he slept at all last night either on my couch or out there somewhere."

Captain Rogers seemed to be studying me carefully, trying to tell if what I was saying was the truth and desperately wanting it to be. He held up the notebook and said, "this seems like he was remembering."

I nodded my head in agreement, "I think he does remember. I didn't read all of that, but he talked a little about it. I think he had a difficult time in the beginning figuring out what was real and what wasn't. And then what happened when relative to each other, but he seemed fully in the here and now, and he remembered you. Called you 'Stevie' even."

Sam guffawed in response to that, and Natasha broke out into a wide grin as Captain Rogers just shook his head. But not even that could take the smile off his face as he realized he might really be getting his best friend back.

I studied Captain Rogers and Natasha, mind still puzzling over their involvement with Rangeman.

"Did you know who I was before you came to Trenton?" I asked. "Because of Rangeman?"

Captain Rogers seemed startled by the question, unsure of how to answer, which was probably answer enough. But I turned to Natasha and raised a brow.

Well, I tried. Probably I raised them both, but I figured she got the point anyway.

"Part of my agreement with Ranger involved being able to review the files of new hires, as well as current employees periodically. I don't care about criminal or questionable pasts, but I care about what people I am currently associated with are doing," Natasha told me. "I also maintain an advisory position and review the budget."

My eyes narrowed at the mention of the Rangeman budget, remembering what Ranger had once told me.

"Am I really listed as a line item under entertainment?" I couldn't help but ask the question. I had to know.

Captain Rogers turned his gaze up to the ceiling and refused to make eye contact.

Natasha's lips quirked and she said, "we didn't require him to justify the expenses at all; he just put it in there that way."

I eyed Ranger angrily, but he didn't care one little bit.

"Pompous ass," I thought to myself.

"Babe," Ranger chastised. "Such language."

I almost stuck my tongue out again, but at the last minute, I remembered what had happened the last time. As I was searching my mind for another retort, I heard my front locks tumble.

My eyes went wide, and I looked around my living room at the gathered Avengers with panic. Ranger had pulled a gun, so I was pretty sure they weren't expecting anyone else to join us.

The door swung open, and I heard the chain catch. I let out a small sigh of relief that Ranger had set the chain when he came in.

"Cupcake?" A voice called out.

Morelli.

I stomped over to the door and yelled, "what are you doing here? What do you want?!"

"I brought pizza and beer," he told me.

When Morelli screwed up and wanted to make up, he didn't buy me flowers or jewelry. He brought pizza and beer and bartered his way into make up sex.

"It's not even 10 in the morning," I shouted incredulously.

"I have the day off," Morelli said as though that explained everything. When I made no move to let him in, he added, "I thought we could put the pizza in the oven to stay warm and the beer in the fridge. Maybe work up an appetite and have it for lunch in a couple hours."

"A couple hours my ass," I thought. Though a soft snort behind me told me maybe I hadn't actually kept that inside my head.

I refused to turn my head and see who the laugh had come from. First there was the Black Widow T-shirt thing. Then there was the sexual innuendo with Ranger thing. Finding out that at least two Avengers knew about me and my various exploits had been the icing on the cake.

I'd thought the day couldn't possibly get any more embarrassing, but I was wrong. There was always a way for things to get more embarrassing. I should have known that.

Apparently I'd been silent too long because Morelli started trying to reach his hand up to free the chain or something, so I strode the rest of the way over to glare at him through the opening in the door.

"No!" I told him. "No pizza! No beer! None of the other thing either!"

"Cupcake—" Morelli started, but I cut him off.

"No Cupcake! Do NOT 'Cupcake' me!" I shouted. "We're done! Over! Through! I've already made that perfectly clear."

"I saw Ranger's Porsche outside," Morelli changed tactics. "I know he's in there. The man's a loose cannon, Cupcake! And you just jump right out of my bed and into his?"

"Hey!" I yelled. "Ranger just wanted to check up on me and see if I was okay! In case you forgot, I've been through a bit of an ordeal!"

"Well, what did you expect?" Morelli asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I shrieked.

"Come on, you're an absolute disaster. You have a horrible job, and you're terrible at it. You need a new job."

I started thunking my head lightly on the wall next to the door, "we've already had this argument," I groaned. "Remember? You told me to just become a housewife. I said I couldn't be a housewife because we weren't married. Also I don't want to. I pressed on why we weren't engaged when you told me months ago that we were engaged to be engaged, and you said we didn't need to be engaged or married!"

"And then I came to the hospital and told you we could get married!" Joe argued.

"Oh my god!" I let out a scream at the end of that. "You need to leave before I kill you."

"You can't say that; I'm a cop," Morelli said.

"Ranger would probably help me hide the body," I thought to myself, but thankfully I  _didn't_  say that out loud.

Morelli continued, unaware of the dark turn my thoughts had taken, saying, "and besides. You couldn't do it. You're such a Cupcake. And I bet your gun doesn't even have bullets in it."

Okay, to be honest, I wasn't actually sure of the state of my gun. I thought it had bullets. Probably.

"I'm sure, Ranger would lend me his," I argued.

"Way to go, Stephanie," I thought. "That'll calm

Things right down."

"So he  _is_  in there with you!" Morelli accused.

I rolled my eyes and replied, "so what if he is? We're over! You get no say whatsoever in who I see or what I do!"

"Come on, Cupcake, let me in," Morelli prodded. "Let's talk about this some more."

His tone had gone gentle and almost seductive as he seemed to decide that yelling wasn't getting him anywhere.

"We've talked," I told him flatly. "I'm not letting you in, just go away."

His hand was still on the inside of the door, and I realized it still had his keys in it, so I pried them loose. I took my apartment key off his key ring and handed them back with finality.

"Don't come back," I said. "I won't let you in. When we see each other in the police station, just treat me like you would any other BEA or walk the other way."

Morelli had dropped his hand in shock when I'd taken away my key, so I took advantage of him being clear and shut the door in his face. I twisted the deadbolt locked again, knowing he would hear it. Then I did up the extra locks and slid home the bolt in the floor for good measure.

I stayed there, looking out the peephole and holding my breath. I watched as he looked around then smacked the wall in frustration. Finally he stormed off, and I listened until I heard the elevator open and shut down the hallway before I let out a sigh of relief.

It was short lived however, and I felt a flush building once more as I remembered the guests in my apartment who had borne witness to that ugliness.

My eyes were closed as I turned around, not really wanting to face the embarrassment of the situation. Finally I peeked open an eye.

"Huh," I said.

Everyone but Captain Rogers had disappeared, and he was sitting on the couch, pretending like he hadn't heard anything, flipping through channels on the TV.

I stood there for a couple minutes, then walked through the rest of the apartment to verify that I really was alone with Captain America.

With a shrug, I walked over to my newly stocked cupboards (it appeared the grocery fairy didn't only dabble in refrigerated goods, so it probably wasn't Ranger or his housekeeper, Ella, after all) and looked through until I found an Entenmann's coffee cake. It was the one with the cream cheese, Grandma Mazur would be jealous.

I grabbed two forks and carted them over to the couch. Captain Rogers seemed to have settled on Jurassic Park, which was playing on some channel I didn't realize I had access to. Maybe the Winter Soldier stole cable in addition to procuring nice couches and groceries.

I sat down on the other end of the couch, leaving one cushion between us. Onto that cushion, I plopped the cake. Then I opened it up and handed over a fork saying, "Captain."

Captain Rogers took the fork without a word, and after he saw me dig in, he shrugged and did the same. Good man. At least  _he_  didn't get on my case about what I ate, unlike a certain security expert I knew.

Speaking of, I opened my mouth to ask where Ranger had gone. But before the words left my mouth, Captain Rogers said, "Ranger thought it would be best if his car was gone when Morelli left the building."

"And…" I trailed off, figuring the question was obvious.

"Nat and Sam are off to talk to the Pennsylvania state cops again," he correctly guessed where I was going. "They want to get access to the site where we are pretty sure you were kept and see if they can find anything of use."

"And you?" I asked, not wanting to be rude, but I really wasn't sure why he was still in my apartment.

"Making sure HYDRA doesn't come here looking for Bucky," he told me.

"And hoping he might come check on me himself?" I asked.

"There is that," he agreed.

"I think Bucky got this couch," I added conversationally after a few minutes of silence and several bites of cake had passed. Captain Rogers cut me a glance from the corner of his eye but didn't say anything, just stayed focused on the movie.

"I got back, and I had a new couch," I elaborated. "The old one was handed down from someone who got it second hand themself after my last apartment fire. It was lumpy and uncomfortable as all hell. Near as I can tell, he didn't sleep on my bed while I was gone or anything, so he either didn't sleep or did so on the couch. And I guess he didn't like the old one."

Steve chuckled a little, and I thought it should be illegal how he did so because it sent tingles through my whole body.

"Bad Stephanie! No tingles! You just got out of a relationship, and he's way too good for you anyway!" I mentally lectured myself. "Plus, he'll leave soon and then where will you be?"

We sat watching the movie a little longer, and I wished I could eat more of the cake, but I was pretty sure my pants would explode if I tried. And that would be embarrassing because Captain Rogers didn't have so much as an ounce of fat anywhere on his body.

But still, the cake had been keeping me from stewing, and without it, I was just pissed off again.

"That man is an asshole," Captain Rogers said, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Still angry?" He asked.

I made an inelegant snorting noise in agreement that I immediately regretted, and Captain Rogers stood. He took the cake back into the kitchen with the forks. I heard the sink run briefly, then when he came back in, he moved my coffee table to the side creating an open space in the middle of the room.

"Come on," he said, gesturing me to stand. "Let's put that anger to good use."

"Okayyyy," I agreed, cautiously moving to where he indicated.

"What do you know about boxing?" he asked me, putting his hands up.

"I'm terrible at it, and you should probably have pads," I answered.

"I'll be fine," he reassured me. "I heal fast, and I bet you're not that bad. Plus, it'll feel good to hit something."

Well, he wasn't wrong about that.


	8. Chapter 8

I awoke from a nightmare in a sweat, groaning when I looked at my bedside clock and saw that it was only 6am. I tried to settle back into sleep, but I felt sticky so there was no way that was happening.

I stumbled into the shower and by the time I felt clean (and my heart rate had returned to normal), I knew all hope of sleep was gone.

Taking a few minutes to dry my hair, I thought about the previous day. I'd met three Avengers, and I'd had another confrontation with Morelli that they had witnessed. Yay.

Of course they'd mostly been kind enough to disappear for a bit after, leaving only Captain Rogers behind. And after one mention of Morelli being an ass, he'd dropped it. He'd also been right both in that hitting something had helped and that I didn't hurt him.

Around the time I'd been feeling like I wasn't in shape enough to box one minute longer, no matter how much better my punching had gotten under Captain Rogers's watchful eye, Nat and Sam had reappeared.

I was pretty sure they'd consulted with Ranger because they brought with them meatball subs from Pino's.

We'd passed the rest of the day pretty easily going between telling stories to get to know one another, and going over the kidnapping and barebones information I'd gleaned from Bucky.

When they'd gone off to the side to strategize for a while, I pulled out my laptop and made myself busy starting to run some searches on Sojourn Enterprises and it's late founder, Richard Frampton. My regular search engines were pulling up bupkis, but I remembered Bucky mentioning a SHIELD/HYDRA connection and made a mental note to ask the Avengers about it and possibly swing by Rangeman to go through their copy of information from the data dump for anything relevant.

We'd had dinner all together in my apartment, and I was contemplating the need for more seating if anyone else showed up. When I'd gotten tired, I had gone to bed with three Avengers still in my living room, and I was curious to see what awaited me in the light of a new day.

Figuring I'd spent as much time as I really could getting ready without it seeming like I was dolling up extra, I went back into my room, dressed, and opened the door into the rest of the apartment.

There was coffee in the coffee pot and Captain Rogers was at the stove, pans sizzling with the makings of a similar breakfast to what Bucky had prepared the day before.

Maybe I took a minute to check out his ass, maybe I didn't. I wasn't telling. Plus I was pretty certain he knew I was there.

I didn't want it to get weird though, so I went over to the coffee and fixed myself a mug. Then I stood at the counter a couple feet away watching him cook for a couple minutes.

"I think Bucky bought those pans," I finally said.

Captain Rogers looked over at me curiously, so I added, "I don't think I had any pans after the last kitchen fire. I'm not much of a cook."

"I can do basics," Captain Rogers told me. "And I've been working on picking up a little more here and there when I can. Nat's actually given me a couple lessons since she got back into town after the hearings."

"I have so many questions," I started, and when Captain Rogers just smiled, I figured I was allowed to ask them. "Is there anything at which Natasha isn't frighteningly competent?"

Captain Rogers seemed to think about that for a while, then he shook his head. "When we were on the run, she seemed surprised that I knew how to hotwire a car. But I didn't get the impression that she couldn't have done it herself if I hadn't. She was just surprised that I could." At my look of surprise he shrugged and said, "Nazi Germany" as if that was explanation enough.

I suppose one picked up a lot of skills in war. Ranger had implied as much as well about his time in Special Forces. And the Howling Commandos were basically the start of Special Forces as far as I knew.

"Did you have more questions?" he asked politely.

As he started plating food up, I managed to set the table and help him carry things over to the table.

"Where is 'into town'?" I asked. Then I accidentally added, "do you live together? Are you an item?"

"No," his denial was quick. And I supposed given what he'd said about their kiss, that made sense. "Tony Stark renamed his tower in Manhattan 'Avengers Tower' and we mostly live there. Though I think he's working on a secondary location for us that might be better long-term."

"Huh," I thought about asking where that secondary location was, but I didn't want him to tell me anything that would make him, or Black Widow, have to kill me. Instead I asked, "did you stay here last night?"

"HYDRA would be most likely to attack at night," he told me by way of answering my question.

I frowned looking over at the couch. It was better than the previous one, but he was pretty tall. I doubt it was all that comfortable.

"You have heating and it is dry. I've stayed in much worse places," he reassured me. "I was comfortable enough, and I don't require much sleep."

"You can't fit on that couch though," I told him. "I'm sure I'll be fine anyway; you've got enough on your plate without worrying about me. Really. I'll be fine."

The look he shot me told me that wasn't an argument I'd win anytime soon, so I dropped it for the time being.

I fixed a plate when he gestured for me to do so, noting that it seemed to be an even more excessive amount of food than Bucky had prepared. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than Natasha materialized next to my chair, and a few moments later, Sam came lumbering in from the foyer.

Well, to be fair, he wasn't overly noisy at all. I had just been alerted to the possibility that he would be around by Black Widow's sudden appearance.

They walked over to the kitchen, grabbed plates and utensils for themselves as I hadn't known to set extras out for them, and helped themselves before sitting down. I mostly listened as they ran through some sort of updates, which seemed to mostly be in code then transitioned into playful banter.

Frankly I was surprised to find that Captain America had a good sense of humor and gave as good as he got. When he finished eating, he excused himself from the table early with a slight apology and walked to the living room.

Living room and kitchen were open to each other with the dining room table and chairs in between, so I could see him pick up a bag from the far side of the couch and then walk into my room, presumably to use the restroom.

I attempted to start cleaning up only to be shoved aside by Sam.

"You wouldn't have dishes to do if it wasn't for us," Natasha said bluntly.

"But you're guests," I half-heartedly protested. My Burg upbringing was telling me I was honor-bound to do the dishes myself, but I didn't really  _want_  to do so.

"Nah," Sam protested. "You're a witness or a source or something. You've been dragged into Cap's shit, and we're going to make you safe and not make extra work for you while we do."

"It wasn't Captain Rogers's fault," I told them. "Or Bucky's. In fact, it seems like it isn't even related to HYDRA or anything. I stumble into disasters all the time on my own. This is tangential at best."

Captain Rogers came back out of my room, looking like he'd somehow showered, shaved, and changed in less time than it had taken me to find the right temperature for my shower earlier in the morning. And it was MY shower…

He observed Sam and Natasha efficiently cleaning up, with a satisfied nod and when they were done we sat back down at the table.

"So…" I said awkwardly. "What now? I mean, I need to get back to work today, but what about you all?"

Natasha reached down and pulled a plastic bag up from next to her seat. I hadn't noticed it when she came in, but then again, I didn't think I would notice anything she didn't want me to. She gently tossed it onto the table in front of me, and I looked at it in confusion.

It looked like some sort of pet collar.

"Uhhhhh," I said awkwardly. "If this is some sort of BDSM thing, I'm going to have to go with thanks but no thanks. I don't exactly swing your way, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle whatever you would dish out anyway."

Natasha threw her head back and laughed long and hard, Sam joining her after a couple beats. From the corner of my eye, I watched a few emotions flit across Captain Rogers's face that I couldn't identify before he dissolved into laughter as well.

I clapped my hands over my mouth in horror. I couldn't believe I'd just said that in front of Captain America.

Natasha got herself under control first (not all that surprising), and she winked at me before retorting, "Probably not, but I might be able to convince you to try…"

I flushed bright red, and I was relieved when Captain Rogers interrupted with a warning, "Nat."

"You're no fun," she argued with an overblown pout on her face. Then she sobered and said, "you drive the black Jeep parked in the lot, right?"

"Yes," I confirmed, not seeing how those two things connected.

"That was on the passenger seat, and somebody added to your paint job," she reported.

"Son of a bitch," I shouted jumping to my feet. I stormed over to the window across the living room which overlooked the parking lot. Looking down I saw red and yellow spray paint all over my car and squinted to read it asking, "does that say… 'pussy'?!"

Everyone had followed me to the window, and Natasha was to my left as she said, "yes."

"Damn it!" I yelled. I huffed away and flung myself onto the couch probably a touch dramatically. "I've had that car for like two weeks! And I was kidnapped for most of that time! So I don't even think that counts! Why does this always happen to my cars?!"

"Do you have any idea what this means or who would do this?" Captain Rogers asked me calmly.

I sighed, "unless this is some sort of hazing ritual from you all?" They all just shook their heads in response so I shrugged, "no clue. I haven't had any other threats recently that I'm aware of, so probably just a random crazy. Or maybe it wasn't even meant for me. Yeah, I bet that's it!"

I was getting excited, only to have my hopes crushed by Sam who was over inspecting the collar in the bag shaking his head and saying, "I'm guessing you didn't look at this too closely."

I allowed another sigh to escape as I got to my feet and walked back to the table. Inspecting it, I saw that the ID tag simply read, "Stephanie Plum."

Probably that was not a coincidence, I thought with a wince. Oh well, nothing I could do about it without more information, I thought. So I grabbed my messenger bag off the back of my chair, shoved the plastic bag away, and started pulling out files.

The three Avengers watched me curiously for a couple minutes as I started going through the files I still had from the bonds office.

"So…" Sam's voice cut through my train of thought, "Are we just not going to talk about this anymore? And what about your car?"

I just waved away his concern saying, "I have no idea who it is, but they'll make themselves known eventually. And the car will probably be firebombed or smashed or otherwise totaled soon anyway."

"You're going to drive it like that?!" Captain Rogers asked incredulously.

"Assuming whoever did that didn't disable it," I said distractedly. "Not even the worst thing that's been painted on one of my cars."

Everyone was just staring at me, so I finished looking through the FTA files and stood. I put them back into my bag, and I walked over to my cookie jar at the end of the kitchen counter next to the entryway. From it, I pulled out my charged stun gun, double checking the battery before sliding it into the messenger bag as well.

I hesitated for a moment. Someone had trashed my car and clearly wasn't too happy with me. So I resigned myself to it and pulled out the gun, checking to see if it had bullets in it. It did not, and a look in the cookie jar told me that there weren't any in there either. So I looked through a couple kitchen drawers, but I still didn't find any.

With a shrug I put the gun back in the cookie jar. Probably there would be a gradual escalation with the stalker before they turned violent anyway. It would be fine.

I started toward the door only to be yanked back by the strap on my bag by Black Widow (she definitely didn't seem very Natasha-y in that moment).

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked me when I turned around wide-eyed.

"To work?" I replied. I'd thought that was obvious.

"Unarmed?" Captain Rogers commented. He said it like a question, but it really wasn't.

"Well, I'm out of bullets. I keep forgetting to buy more, but who knows? Maybe today is the day!" I forced fake enthusiasm into my voice at the idea, but really I didn't like guns. And I was alright with not having bullets. "And I have my stun gun!"

All three just stared at me, thoroughly unimpressed, so I took the gun back out of the cookie jar and dropped it into my bag.

"Fine! I'll get bullets! Connie probably has some. I'll ask. Scout's honor," I said.

"Were you actually a scout?" Sam asked.

"And if Connie doesn't have bullets for your gun?" Natasha interrupted to ask.

"I'll go get some," I fibbed.

Her eyes narrowed at me, and Captain Rogers just sighed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't actually have a permit to carry concealed anyway," I told him. "Wouldn't want me to be breaking the law, right?"

"He's actually not as opposed as you might think," Natasha told me.

I supposed that made sense with the whole hot wiring cars thing.

Well. And the bringing down SHIELD and crashing helicarriers into buildings and the Potomac thing.

Yeah… she had a point.

"Okay, okay. I'll get bullets!" I relented.

"And put them in your gun and carry it with you," Captain Rogers insisted.

"Fine," I grumbled out.

I didn't have to be happy about it.

"Thank you," they chorused.

They didn't even call jinx on each other. How lame was that?

When I started walking toward the door again, everyone seemed to be following me, so I paused. "Are you following me today?" I asked. "I assumed you wanted to keep a low profile."

"Nobody will see us," Captain Rogers told me.

"And I'm going to look over your car," Sam insisted.

I shrugged and grabbed my jacket as I left the apartment, locking up behind us all. When I turned back around, Natasha was already gone and Captain Rogers had a jacket on and a baseball hat pulled down low over his face.

It was the beginning of February in Trenton, so the jacket wasn't a bad idea. I figured one that was more bulky would make him blend in more and hide his physique a bit, but that was his choice.

I certainly wasn't going to complain about the view.

What did surprise me is when I climbed into the Jeep and cranked it over, after it had been fully inspected, and Captain Rogers climbed into the passenger seat.

"Uhhhh," I said, completely surprised.

"Problem?" He asked.

"You're Captain America," I told him.

"Yes," he replied calmly.

"You can't ride around in the Pussy Car," I said. "It's just wrong."

I thought I saw a little smile pass his lips, as though he'd thought about making a joke. Instead, what he said was, "I'm just a person, like you. If the car is good enough for you to ride in, it's good enough for me."

"As refreshing as I find your lack of ego," I started. "And believe me, I do. You aren't  _just_  a person like me. You're Captain America."

He just crossed his arms over his chest, so I gave up. But I still didn't put the car in drive. When he looked over at me, I told him, "if you're just a person then you have to wear your seat belt like the rest of us."

He laughed at that, but he immediately complied.

"How is this going to work?" I asked. "Are you coming with me while I chase down skips? Because Lula, at the bonds office, is usually my partner. And I was just kidnapped, so I feel like she's probably going to insist on riding along."

"If she does, then I'll fade into the background. She won't see me." I snorted in disbelief, and he added, "we have a com that we're hoping you'll wear."

"For how long?" I asked. "I'm not letting you track me forever just because Bucky stayed in my apartment two for days while I wasn't even there."

"Let's start with today."

He sounded so calm and reasonable, so I blew out a breath and agreed.

"I'll try to ditch Lula," I told him as a peace offering.

"Whatever makes you most comfortable," he replied.

Here's the thing. As far as partners go, Lula isn't the best. When you combine us, Lula and I are basically Thelma and Louise. Or maybe Lucy and Ethel. At any rate, we're an endless source of calamities and good intentions being overridden by impulsive decisions. And a fundamental failure to fully grasp consequences and predict outcomes only made things worse. Usually we get our man, but there are gunshots and explosions and stampedes and messes along the way.

Probably it was best to leave Lula in the bonds office and not mix our duo with the powder keg that was the Avengers.

I had a file in my bag for Simon Diggery, and assuming Lula hadn't brought him in while I was gone, I could probably hold her off for at least a day with the mention of his boa constrictor only getting bigger since the last time we had seen him.


	9. Chapter 9

Of course Lula would not be swayed from going with me to hunt my skips, in part because apparently Diggory had turned himself in while I was gone. I didn't know what that was about.

What I did know was that Captain Rogers was not in my Jeep when we went outside, and it didn't seem that anyone had seen him get out. Lula and Connie hadn't said anything, there were no crowds outside, and my mother hadn't called me to tell me that someone had seen a strange man get out of my vehicle just days after I'd broken up with Morelli.

Small miracle.

Of course, that would be the extent of my good luck.

I started with the most urgent skip, and that was a man named Edward Herbert. Edward was wanted for third degree assault on his neighbor.

Edward was convinced that his neighbor was stealing his newspaper. After repeated calls to Trenton Police Department, who had not taken him seriously, he'd taken matters into his own hands.

I may have broken up with Morelli, but I'd spent enough time dating him while he was a cop with TPD in the crimes against persons division to know that they had way bigger fish to fry than newspaper theft. And a big backlog to work on.

Then again, maybe I was being overly sympathetic to the neighbor since I had been known to steal my neighbor's newspaper if I found myself in need and it was still sitting out on their welcome mat.

What? I usually put it back.

It was a little odd getting used to having Avengers talking in my ear while also carrying on a conversation with Lula, but thankfully they didn't chatter too much. I wasn't sure if they had some way of putting themselves on mute for me specifically from time to time, or if they actually just didn't talk much.

Still, even when they weren't speaking, I was acutely aware that at least one of them was probably there. Watching. Judging.

Maybe that wasn't fair. They actually were pretty nice and remarkably down to earth people. Much more than you would expect of superheroes- especially Captain Rogers. And other than the whole gun thing, they hadn't been forceful with me or judgemental of the insanity that was my life.

And maybe it was a little comforting to know that they were there. It was kind of like when one of the men from Rangeman were following me at Ranger's order. The Avengers didn't want anyone to know they were in town, and they had no intention of drawing attention to themselves. But I was pretty sure if it came down to them breaking cover or me dying, they were going to break cover.

So I was feeling pretty confident, and even Lula noticed.

"I thought you and Detective Sexy broke up at the hospital," Lula said. "First you were in the hospital unconscious, and the rumor mill was saying you and Morelli were engaged. Then the next thing I know, Connie and I are hearing that you threw him out of your room on his ass the second you woke up!"

"We broke up before."

I didn't elaborate because I was hoping to not invite too many questions.

"Before you were kidnapped?" Lula asked.

"Yeah," I told her, parking at the curb outside of Herbert's house.

"So you were kidnapped?" Lula pressed.

"Yeah," I hopped out of the car and started walking up the walkway.

"Wow, you're not real talkative today are you," Lula said. "And what's with the paint on this car. Did it happen before or after you were kidnapped? Who did it? Was it Detective Sexy? Why are you so confident? Did Ranger soothe your broken heart?"

I stopped halfway to the door and turned on her, "it's complicated. It's all complicated. And I don't want to talk about it. I broke up with Morelli, and I've had to remind him a couple times now. I don't remember anything about my kidnapping. I did not sleep with Ranger. And I don't know who graffitied my car. End of story. Now are we going to get this skip or what?"

Lula let out an offended breath, "okay. I just thought we were friends and maybe you'd want to catch me up on what was happening with your life."

"Well you're caught up," I told her. "Now let's do the phone thing and you go around back. NO SHOOTING."

"I see getting kidnapped hasn't made you any more fun," Lula said. "And you got them bullets from Connie. Are you going to shoot him? If you're going to shoot him, why can't I shoot him?"

"I'm not going to shoot him! Nobody is going to shoot anybody!"

"Fine, fine!" Lula grumbled under her breath as she walked away.

I took my phone out and called her, waiting for her to pick up and then putting the phone on speakerphone before clipping it onto my belt.

I knocked on the front door and yelled out, "Bond Enforcement!" After a few seconds of silence I did it again.

"Back door is locked," Lula told me. "Want me to bust it in?"

I looked around and saw a rock on the front porch, "hold on," I told her. I kicked the rock and found a key under it. Easy.

"I found the hide a key," I told Lula. "I'm going to go in the front. Hold your position, and make sure he doesn't escape out the back."

So saying I pulled my stun gun out and turned the key in the lock. I switched the stun gun over to my right and opened the door with my left.

"Mr. Herbert!" I yelled out as I walked in the door. "This is Stephanie Plum! I work for Vincent Plum Bail UUUGGGHHH!"

Something landed on my head with a plop and I looked up in time to see something thick and goopy dumping out of a bucket above the door. It was sticky and it was all over my face, head, hair, and dripping down my body in thick waves from there.

"Mother fu-" I cut off again as I heard a switch somewhere to my right. I pulled my stun gun up as a fan turned on and blew… sawdust all over me. Sawdust.

"Ha ha!" A man yelled from further in the living room! "I told that broad who called in that I wasn't coming in! That man was a thief, and I took care of him! Not my fault the oil and marbles made him fall! Ain't no assault! He was trespassing anyway!"

"Edward Herbert?" I asked, wiping gunk out of my eyes.

"That's me!" he said proud. "And you're that dumb bitch-"

This time he was the one that cut off, and it was because the breath wooshed out of him as I tackled him.

"You son of a bitch," I said. "What? Did you watch Home Alone a few too many times?"

"Every day in December," he retorted. "And get off me! You're dripping on me, and I'm not going back to jail!"

"Yeah, you are!" I yelled. "And really? You're going to complain that I'm dripping on you?! Whose fault is that?!"

"You were breaking and entering!" he told me.

"I'm allowed to enter your residence," I told him.

"You need a warrant!" he told me as I dragged him out of the house and toward the car.

I counted to ten trying to regain my calm even though I was pissed that my first skip back and things had already gone sideways. I was going to be the laughing stock of the police station again, and I didn't want to go in. But I needed the money.

"I don't need a warrant," I told him. "I'm not a cop."

I could hear Lula huffing and puffing over the phone as she presumably started coming back around the house from the side yard. I remote started the car, not wanting to be cold in addition to covered in crap on the drive to the police station.

Halfway down the walkway, I heard the screech of tires as a big SUV with a bumping bass came flying around the corner.

Instinct had me throwing Herbert down on the ground then following a split second later before my brain had even fully registered that what was happening was possibly a threat.

I was glad for it because the two windows on our side of the SUV rolled down just enough for the tops of a couple of guns to pop out and all of the sudden it was like a war zone broke out on the otherwise quiet street.

"Holy shit!" Lula yelled.

I could hear her return fire over the phone, and I got into a bit of a crouch as I struggled to try to fish my gun out of my messenger bag. I felt a searing pain in my arm, and dropped myself even lower back to the ground and finally felt my hands close around the handle.

I pulled it up and quickly emptied the rounds in my Smith & Wesson, and I was pretty sure I actually hit the SUV in the process as they quickly sped away. I lowered my gun and my guard for a moment only to realize that they stopped again a couple houses down.

The window on the back door of the SUV popped open and I thought I saw some sort of rocket launcher coming up, so I grabbed up my skip and we booked it back toward the house at a crouch.

I heard a very familiar sound behind me, and I didn't even need to look to know what had happened.

Still I heard Lula yelling, "you okay, Steph?!"

"Yeah," I shouted back to her. "Take cover!"

"They're gone," she hollered. "And probably you don't have to worry about that graffiti on your car anymore!"

I still had my left hand, the one that wasn't attached to the arm beginning to be plagued by a dull throb, latched onto my skip's arm, but I pulled back enough to get a good look at him.

"You okay?" I asked him surprised at how collected I sounded.

"I think I messed myself," he answered, looking quite pale. I didn't see any blood on him though, so I figured he was fine otherwise.

And I was a goopy disaster, but at least I could be proud that I hadn't messed myself like him.

"No shame in that," I told him.

I dragged him back out to the front yard and surveyed the damage. His yard, front steps, and concrete walkway were shot up, as was his fence. Then of course my Jeep was a smoldering, twisted hunk of metal, but that was really all.

I could already hear sirens approaching at a rapid pace, but first on scene was a pretty blue SUV that had me flinching and ready to hit the ground once more before my earpiece came live again with a quick, "it's us. You okay?" in a clipped tone from Natasha.

I looked down at my arm and said, "just grazed me. I'll be fine." Then as an afterthought I added, "I'm out of bullets again though."

Moments later Ranger's porsche cayenne rolled up, and he stepped out. He gave a brief nod to the SUV, and it pulled away once more.

He walked up and looked me over head to toe.

"Babe," Ranger said. This one was a mix of amusement over everything that was covering me and relief that I was okay. With a bit of exasperation that I was already in danger again mixed in.

A Rangeman SUV pulled up, and Tank and Hal got out. Ranger took my skip from me and the paperwork with the right to apprehend once I pulled that out of my bag. He handed both off to Hal, and addressed Lula who had walked up, "you need a ride?"

Lula fanned herself but nodded.

"Hal will take you home then take the skip to jail," Ranger told her.

Then his focus was on me once more, "do you want to stay to talk to the cops?" he asked.

"I would rather not," I answered. "If that is an option."

Ranger pulled me a few steps away and into him.

"Tank will take you to St. Francis," he said, taking a hand and pushing a goop covered strand of hair out of my face. "Try not to have any disasters in the next hour, and I'll come get you once everything is all set here. Take you back to my place. We can get you cleaned up. Maybe it'll take a couple tries."

"And then what?" I asked because a shower at Rangeman in Ranger's luxurious bathroom sounded great even without the extras I was sure Ranger was offering.

"Babe?" Ranger wasn't sure what I was asking.

"I go back to your place, spend the night, and then what happens in the morning?" I asked impatiently.

"We have breakfast and then you go hunt some more skips," he told me calmly.

"So nothing's changed," I clarified.

"I still can't offer you more."

Ranger's face didn't give anything away as he said it, and his eyes just searched mine.

"I know your big secret now," I pointed out.

Ranger gave a hollow laugh, and he replied, "that was hardly my biggest secret. It isn't even dark."

"Then why didn't you tell me before?!" I was frustrated, and then I realized I was getting beyond my point, so I added. "Never mind, that isn't important. So it doesn't matter that Morelli's gone?"

"For now," Ranger said, implying that Morelli and I would be getting back together.

"For good," I insisted. "This isn't like the other times. I'm done with him."

"Doesn't change anything," Ranger told me. "Though I had hoped it would make the part where I convince you to come back to my apartment easier."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you wouldn't do the thing where you feel guilty because of Morelli," he said.

"Huh," I said. "Well, I don't feel guilty. But if nothing's changed, then I think I'll pass."

I had to admit, my voice didn't sound totally sure about that. Which is probably why Ranger pulled me to him for a brief but thorough kiss.

Ranger was good at persuading.

He stared into my eyes for a moment then nudged me in the direction of Tank.

Probably I didn't want a relationship with Ranger anyway. I mean, can you imagine what that would be like?

The guy is nuts about security and he's already always tracking me. If we were in an actual relationship, he'd probably do that even more.

And then there were his enemies. I mean, I'd done him a favor and gone to a wedding as his date slash extra security one time, and that had ended in a guy blowing himself up in my foyer.

Maybe Ranger was right. He did have a karma problem, and I didn't need that following me around. I had bad enough luck on my own.

And maybe he'd be done balancing his karma out soon.

In the meantime, what's a few orgasms between friends? Probably an orgasm or two would have me feeling pretty good about this whole drive by shooting, pussy car blowing up thing.

Certainly it was worth a try, right?

If I said any of that out loud, Tank didn't comment. Normally Tank's incessant silence drove me a little crazy, but in that moment, I loved it.

Didn't need Tank talking me out of my post-stitches Ranger orgasms. Or acknowledging them or talking about them at all, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's okay. I promise, this is not a Babe. It's a Steph/Steve story. We're just taking a little time to get there.


	10. Chapter 10

Let's take a look at my life. In the past week I'd been rescued from being kidnapped (yay! But it meant I had been kidnapped), I'd had someone leave me a cat collar with my name on it and tag my car all over with the word "pussy," and I'd had someone try to gun me down.

And here's the thing, I was pretty sure that those were all separate people. The drive-by didn't feel like the "pussy" person.

The pussy person was probably angry, but they were going into this looking to enjoy the long game of messing with me.

Whoever had done the drive-by just wanted me dead. The sooner the better.

And as far as we could tell, I'd been kidnapped for scientific experimentation, so that was a third, entirely different can of worms.

But I didn't really care. Sure it was coming, but the night before I'd made Ranger take me out for dinner and gorged myself on delicious alfredo. I'd had to endure a few "Babe, that stuff will kill you," comments and looks, but it had been worth it to get my happy back after a hospital visit that had involved shots and stitches.

And then if that wasn't good enough (and really, it was), I'd also let Ranger tempt me back to his apartment for the night.

At the moment, I didn't care about the fact that it could only be sex between Ranger and I, nothing more.

The sex was amazing.

The sex was magic.

Ranger was very focused, attentive, and thorough in bed.

I didn't even care about the fact that I was about to walk into an apartment that was probably filled with anywhere from one to three Avengers. And Ranger hadn't reminded me to take out my comms until after we'd gotten to the Rangeman garage.

I wasn't sure if that was because he wanted some backup just in case or what, but they'd probably heard dinner and verbal foreplay. And I wasn't even embarrassed.

Okay. That was a lie. I was a little embarrassed.

But I couldn't do anything about it now, and I was riding on post-orgasmic bliss, so I was willing to pretend it hadn't happened as long as they did.

Ranger dropped me off in my parking lot and waited, watchful until I made it inside the building. I took a few steps into the building foyer toward the stairs only to stop short in surprise.

Bucky stepped out of a darkened corner, full jacket on covering his metal arm and hat pulled down low. I managed to keep the smile inside about how he and Captain Rogers used basically the same disguise as I waited for him to say something.

"You okay?" he asked.

Of course. Bucky may not have been around since the Avengers showed up, but he must have been running surveillance of his own on me as well.

"Yeah," I told him.

"Why do you let him treat you that way?" Bucky asked.

I was confused until I realized he meant Ranger.

"Were you listening to us?" I asked incredulously. Bucky shrugged, so that was a yes. I wondered HOW he was doing so, but then I figured it was better not to know. Maybe he had his own listening equipment, maybe he had hacked the Avengers. Either way, it was just one more set of ears and there were already plenty.

"Just want to make sure you're okay," he told me.

"And see how your buddy is?" I asked.

Bucky looked away and didn't say anything, so I thought that was also a yes.

"Ranger treats me just fine," I said after a couple beats of silence.

Bucky studied me as though trying to decide if I actually believed it. I did. Mostly.

"He ain't good enough for you. He tells you what to eat, even though you're beautiful. And he's not willing to make any promises for you. He doesn't treat you like you're truly precious to him."

If I looked past the creepy listening in thing, I could see that there was something sweet there. Something about how Bucky felt a woman should be treated by her lover. Like she was special. And he should support her unconditionally.

It was too bad that I didn't feel anything romantic toward him because Bucky would probably be a really good boyfriend.

A look crossed Bucky's face, and I had the horrified realization that I had spoken out loud again.

Bucky stared at me for a moment, face impassive. Then he said, "I'm too broken- probably for anyone. Definitely for someone as nice as you."

"You need someone who can understand better than I can," I told him. "Someone with shared life experience."

"And you deserve someone who will do right by you."

I thought about old-timey sensibilities and bristled saying, "I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can," Bucky agreed then added, "but you shouldn't have to do it all on your own if you don't want to. I just figured that you broke up with Morelli because he didn't want to get married, which probably meant that you did want to get married. There's nothing wrong with wantin' to have a partner in life, but Ranger won't give you that."

I really wanted to be mad at him and tell him it was none of his business, but here's the thing. Bucky wasn't saying anything I didn't already know. Anything I wouldn't already feel once the orgasm-induced euphoria wore off.

"Okay, no more Ranger sexytimes," I told myself, squaring my shoulders with resolve and meeting Bucky's gaze.

Whether I had said it out loud or he saw it in my eyes, Bucky was clearly satisfied as he nodded and said, "good. You deserve the best."

He said it more as if "The Best" was someone's title rather than an idea, or at the very least referring to someone specific, but I was choosing not to look at _that_ too closely.

I'd only had one cup of coffee at Ranger's and I needed more if I was going to try to decipher spy talk and doublespeak.

Bucky's head tilted to the side a though he was listening to something, and with one more quick nod, he was out of there.

Captain Rogers came flying down the stairs moments later, and I felt a twinge of guilt at not having contacted him as I said, "you just missed him."

"Who?" He asked urgently, hands patting me down my arms as if checking me over but remembering to be gentle over the stitches. "Are you okay? Was it whoever painted your car?"

"What?!" I was offended on Bucky's behalf. "You should know better!"

"Wait, what?" Captain Rogers asked, obviously confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"Wait, what?" I echoed. Then I gestured vaguely to the back door. "Bucky? Didn't you come down here for Bucky?"

Captain Rogers rushed over to the door and looked out, allowing a small sigh to escape him when he clearly didn't see the man in question.

"You were quiet over the comms," he told me. "After Ranger dropped you off, but I just assumed you were thinking or something. Then it took you too long to get upstairs, even if you stopped to check the mail, so I was worried someone had ambushed you inside the building somehow. Bucky must have had a signal jammer on him."

"Oh," I said, a little flattered that Captain Rogers had seemed so concerned over me. "Well, someone kinda did, but it was Bucky. And he was lecturing me, not hurting me or anything."

A big grin broke out on Captain Rogers's face, and I was reminded how gorgeous he was. Total specimen of what a man could be.

He leaned against the wall casually and crossed his arms, which made all his upper body muscles ripple appealingly in his tight exercise shirt.

"I've had more than a few of those," he smiled as he spoke. "Which one was it?"

"The don't sleep with Ranger one," I blurted out.

Great, Stephanie. There goes any chance of pretending you didn't sleep with Ranger or not offending him if he didn't believe in premarital sex.

Captain Rogers's smile faltered a bit and he said, "wait. But are you and Bucky…?"

"What?!" I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head, and I shook it wildly. "No!"

"Then it's none of his business," Captain Rogers said with finality. He didn't look like someone who was offended by the idea of one night stands. Or whatever the term was for my intermittent liaisons with Ranger.

"Right," I agreed. "But it was more of a 'you can do better' and 'you deserve to have what you want in life' pep talk."

"Ah," Captain Rogers smiled timidly. "I have had that one before. Though I got it when nobody was interested in me, and he didn't want me to give up hope that I'd find someone one day."

"Well," I said awkwardly pointing to myself. "Exactly. And I find it hard to believe that nobody is interested in you."

"I used to be small and sickly, and nobody wanted to be stuck with me. Back before the serum. Anyway, Bucky is right. You can do better than Ranger," he said. "He treats you like _a_ girl, not his _best_ girl."

"Well first of all, I'm not a girl, I'm a woman!" Captain Rogers's eyes raked down my body at that statement with what I thought was interest strong enough that I could almost feel it, which made the next part come out more like a question than intended, "and second it doesn't seem like anybody is interested in me? At least not seriously. Maybe I'm doomed to die alone in my apartment with my hamster. Probably it'll be death by firebomb."

"Guess we'll have to work on that," he said after studying me carefully long enough that I started shifting uncomfortably.

Then he just turned around and started back up the stairs.

"Wait, what?!" I said again. I started following him calling ahead trepidatiously, "which part?"

When I followed him into the apartment, I was surprised to find Natasha and Sam there both giving Captain Rogers knowing looks.

Weird.

"It was almost like he… but no! How many times must we go over this, Steph? Captain America is not interested in you!" I told myself. "He can have anybody he wants! Super models! The Black Widow! He's not going to settle for some disaster of a bounty hunter who lives in Trenton!"

Speaking (or thinking) of Black Widow, she was watching me extremely carefully, eyes very thoughtful. I may have made a suspicious face at her because she smirked a little as I walked past her.

I opened my bedroom door, heard a slight clicking sound, and bam! I was drenched in… water.

"We need to work on your reflexes," Natasha told me calmly. "And your techniques for entering and clearing rooms and spaces."

I spun around, pushing wet hair out of my face. "You-u-u-u-u-" I sputtered. I couldn't even put it to words.

Captain Rogers was staring at the ceiling, looking like it was taking a monumental effort not to laugh. Sam had his head down on my kitchen table, and his shoulders were shaking in what seemed to be laughter. And Natasha just looked completely bland.

"AARRRGGGHHHH!" I yelled in frustration. "You were here! I thought it was SAFE."

"Never let your guard down," Natasha told me.

"Are you telling me not to trust you?" I asked. I was completely fascinated by the idea.

"No," Captain Rogers said, finally under control enough to look at me, it seemed. "We want you to trust us, and we will do our best to protect you. But we were all in here and you have a fire escape off your bedroom window. Your apartment security is-"

"Abysmal," Natasha cut in.

"So you should always act like a room isn't clear until you've confirmed otherwise," he told me. "Unless you're willing to let us upgrade your security."

"Fancy security systems and I do not get along," I told them. "Do you know what happens to fancy security systems when they get put on my apartment?"

"No! What?!" Sam looked eager with his chin propped up on one hand, elbow on the table. I gave him a look of surprise and he exclaimed, "what? Your stories are always great!"

Normally people asked me to tell them stories because they wanted to laugh at me and found them amusing at my expense, but Sam seemed genuinely interested. All three did, really. And I remembered how they always made me feel comfortable, and nobody had made a single joke about the booby trap incident from the day before.

Sure, Natasha had used a similar set-up to make her point, but it wasn't because she found the situation funny. It was because she wanted me to learn from it.

With a sigh I said, "I can't work them. And then I get mad and I shoot them."

"You… shoot them?" Natasha clarified. "How do you shoot a security system?"

"Ranger's always have keypads or key fobs and shit, and they won't let me in and then I get angry."

"And you shoot them?" Captain Rogers said, voice tinged with… was that wonder?

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"But if you shoot them," Sam looked puzzled. "How do you get in?"

"Call Ranger and whoever installed it comes back and takes it off," I explained.

"What if there's no keypad, nothing complicated for you to deal with?" Captain Rogers asked. "If it's just as simple as you walking up to the door, and it opens."

"That sounds like no security system," I was confused. "Which I'm all for, but isn't that the exact opposite of what you were going for."

"Oh, it'll be there. It will just be so easy to use it'll be like nothing is there," he told me. I was sure my expression was completely doubtful, so he added, "I know a guy."

"Sure," I relented. "We can give it a try, but I reserve the right to shoot it if it makes me mad."

Natasha had the biggest smile I had ever seen on her before, as she clapped her hands and said, "I may ask you to do that at some point anyway." Then she stood with a look of anticipation and said, "so what's on the schedule for today?"

I rolled my eyes up as though I could see the hair on my head as I said, "I'm going to go deal with this and make sure it doesn't turn into an untamable mess. Then I have skips to go after. Since I already have the files, I'll probably call Connie to make sure nothing else major has come in but not go to the office. Hopefully I can avoid picking up Lula and make things a little easier in terms of you all not being seen."

I walked into my bedroom warily, eyes peeled for any more tricks. When I didn't immediately find any, I looked down at myself. My Rangeman shirt was wet, and although Ranger didn't seem to mind when I went out looking for skips for Vinnie wearing it, I preferred not to. It seemed like false advertising. I was also wearing pants that were a lot like the black fatigues Ranger often wore, just in my own size.

The whole get-up always made me feel like Mini-Ranger when I wore it, and I didn't think I really needed him on my mind all day while trying to exercise the "no Ranger sexytimes" plan while also not dating Morelli.

So I went over to my dresser and found a pair of jeans and tshirt, and I pulled my com out, setting it on top for the time being. Then I stripped as I walked across the room to the bathroom.

Once inside, I looked at myself in the mirror appraisingly. My hair always had a mind of its own that was difficult to control. And with only half or so of it having gotten wet, I didn't see how I was going to get it to all do the same thing without getting it all wet. I sniffed myself, realizing I also smelled of Rangers body wash.

Normally this wasn't a problem because Ranger always smelled great. And smelling like Ranger made me tingle in interesting places. But this too seemed counterproductive to my new plan, so… shower it was.

While I was soaping up, I thought about Captain Rogers, replaying pretty much every conversation and interaction we'd had since we met. Every look he'd given me and everything he'd said.

The conclusion I came to was that maybe I wasn't crazy, and maybe he WAS interested in me. Romantically.

I soaped my hair three times thinking about that and talking myself through how I felt about that before I felt the water starting cool. I rushed through conditioning, buffing, and polishing (just in case) before it turned completely cold. Maybe I put a little more effort into making sure I was soft and smooth everywhere than I would have anyway. So sue me.

I also took a little extra time to get my hair into good shape then brushed my teeth and dressed.

By the end of my routine I was thinking that if Captain America really was interested in me, maybe I wouldn't fight it. Sure, he was probably out of my league, but if he didn't realize that, I wasn't going to point it out to him.

Also he was really, really attractive. There was something about him that made me feel comfortable despite his size and sheer power, and he was sexy as all hell.

True, he wasn't exactly local. But New York wasn't far away at all, and for the time being, he seemed to be sticking close by. I mean, who even knew if things would work out. But if they did, New York wouldn't even be that long of distance. And it seemed like he had a pretty flexible schedule when he wasn't saving the world or taking down large swaths of the government.

For now, he was here. And I didn't even know for sure that he was interested. But if he was, then I was. Sure, it hadn't been that long since I'd broken up with Morelli, but if I was being honest, it felt like a lifetime ago in terms of experience. And I really hadn't been that sad about it. In truth, it had been a long time coming.

And Ranger had drawn his lines, and that was that.

As far as I was concerned, I was available, and I wasn't even in a rebound phase. I was ready for something new, if it were to come up.

I nodded my head purposefully and strode out into the bedroom. I walked to my dresser to grab my com, and I looked in the mirror above it to put in the earpiece. I froze. Someone had written on my mirror.

My hands shook a little as I realized who I was pretty sure it was.

The upper left hand corner had neat lettering saying, "you are strong." The bottom right corner said, "you are beautiful."


	11. Chapter 11

"I have enhanced hearing," Captain Rogers blurted out as soon as I stepped foot outside of my bedroom. "I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner."

I looked around and saw that Natasha and Sam seemed to have disappeared once more, and then I focused back on Captain Rogers.

"Okay," I said slowly. I wasn't really sure why he seemed so nervous. "Is that a good thing or not? I mean, I could see that being kind of annoying. Do you get headaches a lot, Captain Rogers?"

He studied me carefully and said, "no, but sometimes I overhear things without meaning to. I'm usually pretty good about tuning it out, but if there is not a lot going on, sometimes I forget and do it without noticing."

He gestured around him as he mentioned not a lot going on, and I got the impression he was talking about that moment.

When I clearly was still puzzled, he clarified, "you were talking to yourself."

"Oh." Well. That was awkward. Again. "Hear anything… interesting, Captain Rogers?"

"Couple things," he said with a small smile. "I  _am_  interested, but I think you'd talked yourself around to seeing that in the end."

I gave my own shy smile and a nod, so he said, "and you might be mutually interested."

The awkward was still there, but he was back to making me feel comfortable again. And I thought about my mirror, taking the plunge and squeaking out, "yes. I am. And it's not a-"

"Rebound thing," he finished. "I got that."

"So…" I asked cautiously.

He shrugged and said, "we get to know each other more while keeping you safe."

"Okay," I agreed. Then for some reason I stuck my hand out like he was going to shake it. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

His grin turned into a full blown smile and he paused with his hand halfway out to mine bargaining, "you have  _got_  to stop calling me Captain Rogers though."

I laughed at that and nodded in assent as he folded my hand in his. His hand was so warm, and I wanted to look down at it, but my eyes seemed to be stuck locked to his instead. Ever so gently and slowly, he used my hand to pull me into him, gauging my reaction as I approached.

Our clasped hands slid out to the side next to his shoulder, and he swooped down. His free hand cupped my face gently, and he brushed a kiss to my lips so light I almost wouldn't have thought it had happened if not for the way my whole body buzzed with awareness.

I may have been reading too much into it, but he seemed a bit reluctant to step away. Still, he did, but his hands lingered where they were and his voice sounded somehow deeper as he said, "now, don't you have some bad guys to catch?"

"Me?" I laughed at that, feeling so much lighter than I could ever remember feeling before. "What about you, Ca- Steve?"

His eyes darkened when I said his name, and I smirked in satisfaction.

"I really only have bad guys to catch if they make a move on you," he said simply. "So I'd rather just watch you do your thing."

Oh crap. Right. He watched when I went after my last skip, and I didn't really see how he could still be interested. He'd be watching as I went after more today. I really hoped I didn't embarrass myself.

"You really just don't see it do you?" he asked in wonder.

"See what?" I asked.

"How amazing you are," he told me. "You're a fighter. A survivor. Sure, your techniques and execution could use a little improvement. But you're good at what you do because you're tenacious as hell. It's… appealing."

I felt my mouth working open and shut, not really sure of how to react to that. Apparently deciding to cut me some slack, Steve reached up and gently pushed my chin to shut my mouth then took a full step back and said, "so who are you going after today?"

"Hold that thought," I responded, holding up a finger and pulling my cell phone out of my messenger bag, dialing.

"Hello?" Connie answered.

"Hey, anything new come in?"

"Well if it isn't Steph!" Connie sounded delighted. "Lula said that when she left Edward Herman's place yesterday, you and Ranger were looking mighty friendly."

I grimaced and flushed, eyes widening as I looked at Steve in horror. He just smiled and waved off my concern.

I wasn't ashamed of my night spent with Ranger, even if the timing was a little weird considering Steve's newly declared interest. And the kiss we'd just shared. But if Steve wasn't going to be bothered by it, then I wasn't going to let it get to me either.

"Hello? Stephanie? Are you there?" Connie was saying over the phone. "Is  _he_  there?"

"Uh, no," I answered. I was pretty sure I'd even sounded convincing. Which was good because Ranger  _wasn't_  there. It was true. "Tank took me to the hospital for stitches."

Also true.

"Uh huh. Sure," Connie said. "Nothing new came in, you've got all your open files minus Herman. And it is a lot of files. We're in the red, and Vinnie is freaking out. He's starting to make noises about bringing in another bounty hunter again. Maybe even Joyce."

"Ugh, is she back?" I asked.

Joyce Barnhardt was my archenemy. We'd both grown up and gone to school together in the Burg, and we'd pretty much gotten along like oil and water. Then Joyce had grown up in all the right places, and she'd turned into a giant slut.

Normally that wasn't a term I liked to use, and I really wasn't one to judge. But she'd slept with my ex-husband Dickie before the ink had even dried on our marriage license. She'd made plays at Ranger and Morelli before in my presence.

And she had stun gunned me a number of times.

Rumor had it Joyce was willing to do… anything… in bed. There were even tales of trained dogs. Anytime she was bounty hunting for Vinnie, she was also doing  _favors_  for him. I'm sure she did disgusting things, and in return he let her take all the best cases. She'd taken skips from me right after I'd captured them and taken the fee for herself.

I hated Joyce Barnhardt. No way did I want her on the team again. Not that she really knew how to be on a team.

"Understood." I told Connie. "I'll get it done."

"Lula is here," Connie told me. "She said your Jeep exploded, and she wants to know if you need a ride or backup."

"Nah," I told her. "Tell her I'll call if I need her, but I'm good for now."

"Okay," Connie said. "Good luck!"

Connie didn't want Joyce in the office either.

I had the skip files in my folder stacked up in the order of highest or most urgent first, so I pulled the top one out and opened it on the table. There was a picture, a sheet with the basics, and a couple post it notes from Connie, which I spread out.

Steve watched curiously over my shoulder as I read everything over again.

Rob Hindley was 40 years old and an assistant to a carpenter. He was wanted for breaking and entering as well as burglary. Apparently he'd pawned something, then he wanted it back but didn't have the money. So he decided to take matters into his own hands. It was his first offense, so I was hoping he'd be reasonable.

I called his sister's number and lied my way into verifying that he was staying there, but he was currently at work.

"Alright," I told Steve. "I'm assuming I'm going to call my dad and get him to give me a ride to my parents' house. Then I'm going to borrow my grandma's car to use until I can get a new one."

"We have a car for you in the lot," Natasha told me over my earpiece.

"You can't just… give me a car…" I protested.

"Really? And after you and Cap came to such a beautiful understanding just minutes ago?" Sam asked.

"You were listening to that?!" I felt my face heat up once more, and Steve stepped behind me and put his arm around my waist.

He pulled me into him in a sort of hug and pressed a quick kiss to my head as Natasha and Sam answered in unison, "of course!"

I harrumphed a little, but I let it go.

"The car is bullet-proof," Natasha enticed me.

"Fine," I relented easily. It would be easier than Big Blue in several ways. Especially because it would allow me to avoid my parents' house a bit longer and the inevitable confrontation with my mother.

And somebody had just shot me and would most likely be interested in doing so again. I was not opposed to having something bulletproof between me and them if they did.

When I stepped out into the parking lot a few minutes later, I let out a low whistle. Natasha was leaning against a BMW X5, and she just said, "Cap's tall" by way of explanation as she tossed me the keys.

It was dark grey, but otherwise probably wasn't going to do the best job of blending in.

"This is going to get stolen so fast," I murmured.

Steve had already climbed into the passenger seat, seemingly interested in getting out of sight quickly, so it was over the comms that I heard him reply, "no it won't."

"One of Ranger's porsche's got stolen with me in it one time," I countered.

"What happened then?" Steve asked conversationally.

"The guy said I had a fat ass, and I lost it." I climbed into the driver's seat and gave Steve a grin as I added, "I made him crash it."

The woodworking shop at which Rob Hindley worked was about a 15 minute drive from my apartment, but I was on pace to make it in about 10 minutes.

What could I say? It was a sport model car, so I was pretty much obligated to put it through its paces, right?

And Steve didn't really seem to mind. We just happily traded getting-to-know-you type conversation back and forth, ever aware that others were listening in but unwilling to let a stretch of time in which nothing crazy was happening pass us by.

With only a couple miles to go, a ringing sound started up in the car.

"Is that… my phone connected?" I asked Steve.

He pointed to the screen in the dashboard where it displayed that Ranger was calling, and I groaned slightly before hitting the button to accept.

I didn't super want to have whatever this conversation was going to be with an audience, but I also didn't want it to seem like I had anything to hide from Steve. Because I really didn't.

"Yo," I said when the call connected.

"Babe," Ranger responded, clearly amused. "Need a car?"

"I already have one and I'm almost to Hindley's workplace," I told him.

"Lula riding shotgun?" he asked. "Do I need to prepare my men and put them on alert?"

I fumed a little to myself, but replied with a short, "no. I left Lula at the bonds office. I have Steve with me for now."

There was an unnaturally long pause at that, and I used the opportunity to get the SUV parked in a spot just down the street from the address I was looking for.

"Steve?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah…" I said slowly. "You've met him. Tall. Muscles. Leans a little toward the overly patriotic?"

"Babe."

Ranger wasn't terribly amused and seemed to think I'd missed some sort of larger point.

"Anyway, I'm here, Ranger. What's up?"

There was another, even longer pause. And finally Ranger said, "I, uh, I'm going to be in the wind for a couple days. Try not to get kidnapped again."

"Alright," I said. "Try not to get shot."

"Pot, kettle, Babe," Ranger said. Then he hung up on me.

"I swear. That man is so strange," I said looking over at Steve. "And I've never heard him say 'uh' before. Wonder what was up with him."

I shrugged to myself and leaned over to reach into the backseat of the SUV for my bag.

"You called Cap 'Steve' not 'Captain Rogers,'" Natasha said. "You've called him Captain Rogers every time you've talked to him or mentioned him until today."

"That doesn't  _have_  to mean anything," I argued.

"But it does," Sam pointed out. "And Ranger can read you easily."

"Alright, well, whatever," I said. "I've got a skip to catch. Are you guys nearby too?"

"Affirmative," Sam told me.

"Well, Steve will need a ride once I get my guy," I told them. "If we don't want him seen."

"I like the confidence," Steve told me. And I smiled at him.

"Vest in the trunk," Natasha told me. "Wear it. And I loaded your gun earlier."

"Awww, you like me," I teased.

"You're alright," she responded.

I smiled some more as I rounded the back of the SUV and opened the trunk. I pulled my jacked off so I could put the kevlar vest under it. Steve was watching me through the back, and I winked at him mouthing, "she likes me."

Steve's mouth quirked into a grin and he gave me two thumbs up.

I slammed the back of the SUV shut, and strode toward the shop feeling like I could DO THIS.

When I got inside, I looked around a little. I was trying to scope out the place. There was a small shop, and a door a short distance behind the counter with cashier. I figured that would take me to the woodworking area. Whatever that was called.

After I'd taken only a couple steps inside the room, a middle aged man who wasn't my skip came out of the back and asked if he could help me with anything.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Stephanie, and I'm looking for Rob Hindley? His sister said I could find him here?"

"Sure," the man agreed. "Come on in back."

I nodded my head in thanks and followed him. I wasn't particularly handy myself, but as we walked through the work area, I observed Rob. I was pretty sure he was sanding.

Sanding was good. Sanding was safe. He didn't have a saw in his hand, or anything like that, which I had been a  _little_  worried about.

"Rob," the man called out.

Rob looked up, and then caught sight of me. I had never met him, but it seemed that he knew who I was. I saw a look of recognition on his face, and he was on the run.

"Damnit!" I yelled. I moved the other man to the side bodily and yelled, "Stop! Bond enforcement!" as I took off after him.

There was a bright light momentarily ahead of me, and I realized he made it out some sort of back door. So I followed.

What I wasn't expecting was that instead of continuing to run, Rob had stopped and pressed himself flat next to the outside of the door. When I cleared it, he grabbed onto me and threw me forcefully into the wall.

The angle he grabbed and pulled at me from turned me so I hit it head on.

"Unh," I let out as the breath whooshed out of me and my forehead bounced of the wall a little because I couldn't quite bring my arms up fast enough.

THAT pissed me off.

Seconds later I'd reoriented myself and spotted Rob rushing away, looking over his shoulder at me. I took off after him once more, and hollered, "give up, Rob! I just need to get you rescheduled!"

Much to my surprise, I was gaining ground on him. Either Rob was in even worse shape than me, or my rage at the header I'd taken into the concrete block wall was giving me an extra gear.

Probably it was a little of both.

When I judged that I was close enough, I took a flying leap and tackled him to the ground.

As I sprung up, I could hear footsteps behind me but ignored them for the time being. Rob had rolled over and was attempting to continue to put up a fight, so I reared back and punched him in the face.

Damn, that hurt.

He made a choked sound and his hands reached up, grabbing onto his nose. And they came back with blood on them. It wasn't that much though. I was pretty sure I hadn't broken it.

It was enough to stun him though, and I was able to shove him over, pull his hands behind his back, and wrestle him into cuffs.

I turned around, shoving Rob in front of me, and I could see Steve leaning against the wall in the distance, huge smile on his face.

Not wanting to call too much attention to him, I gave him a quick nod and pushed Rob to the SUV. When I opened the back seat, I was pleased to note that it had shackles in the floor.

Fifteen minutes later, swiping at leftover sweat from my sprint and fight as I drove, I was pulling up to the Trenton police station.

When I walked inside, my friend Eddie Gazarra was standing there talking to the other cop working the desk.

"Jesus Christ, Steph!" he exclaimed. He rushed forward and grabbed my skip asking, "you alright?"

I was confused because I hadn't even gotten so much as a drop of water spilled on me in the process. It had been a relatively straightforward, clean capture.

"Yeah?" I replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie passed the skip off and gestured to my head saying, "you're bleeding!"

I rolled my eyes upward but, of course, I couldn't see anything. Then I looked down at my arm. Great. It hadn't been sweat I'd been wiping off while I drove. It was blood. Which was now all over the arm of my jacked.

"Damnit, Rob!" I scowled at my skip as he was taken away. Once he was locked up, the cop came back, and I handed over my paperwork for inspection and started working on the process of getting my body receipt from him.

Eddie had apparently run off for a first aid kit, and, despite my attempts to shove off his concern, he cleaned up the cut on my head and applied a butterfly bandage.

"I don't think you need stitches," he told me. "But you might want to go get checked out anyway. You don't have a concussion do you?"

"No, geez," I complained. "Who are you my mother?"

"Alright, alright," he said. "See if I care next time!"

He was all bark. He really would care next time. I gave him a playful shove then collected my paperwork and headed out.

When I got back to the X5, I nearly had a heart attack when I climbed in and found Steve in the front seat and Natasha and Sam in the back.

Nobody said anything as I drove the short distance to the Bonds Office. I went inside solo, and Vinnie happened to be standing at Connie's desk when I walked in.

"What happened to you?" he asked. "You didn't shoot anyone, did you?"

"Cripes," I said. "I didn't shoot anyone."

I handed over the paperwork to Connie, and Vinnie read over her shoulder.

"Rob Hindley, is good. I need more though. You need to go faster. Do you have any idea how behind we are right now?!" Vinnie was all worked up.

Connie rolled her eyes to me then set about quickly preparing my check. "You okay?" she asked as I handed it over.

"Yeah," I looked around. "Where's Lula?"

"She went to pick up lunch. You can call her if you want her to get you something. She only left five minutes ago, so she shouldn't have ordered yet."

"Thanks, but I'm good." I pointed to my head and then the blood on my arm. "I'm going to go clean up a bit more."

"I'm not paying you to clean up! I'm paying you to catch skips!" Vinnie told me.

"And I'll catch more," I told him. "I'm just not going to do it covered in blood."

"Why not? You do it covered in everything else. The way I hear it yesterday it was maple syrup and feathers?"

"Dirty rumors," I told him.

It was a fib. I hadn't bothered to figure out exactly what I was covered in the day before, and as far as I knew, Vinnie had it right about the syrup, but I was pretty sure I remembered saw dust or some kind of dirt being blown on by the fan. Not that it mattered anyway.

I didn't feel like heading down that lane of conversation again though, so I grabbed my check and waved over my shoulder as I strode back out of the office.

The SUV was still parked safely at the curb, it probably had three Avengers in it, one of whom was I was possibly heading into a relationship with, and I had a fresh capture check in hand. It was a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been feeling well at all. I owe you a chapter for the 15th and the 22nd as well as this coming week (I'll be out of town on Friday), so I'm planning to give you three days in a row of chapters to make up for delays!


	12. Chapter 12

When we got back to my place, the comfortable silence continued until we got upstairs and into the apartment.

Sam had a large duffle with him, and he started unloading supplies on my kitchen table immediately.

"Oh, come on, Eddie already looked at it," I said.

Okay, I admit, it was more of a whine than anything else.

"Sam was pararescue," Steve told me. "Which means he's a trained air force field medic."

"Better than going to a hospital, right?" Natasha pointed out.

I pouted a little then sighed and threw myself somewhat dramatically on the couch. I hadn't been planning to go to a hospital anyway.

"I feel like this negates my awesome points," I told them.

"Nah," Sam told me as he approached. "Everyone needs a little fixing up after an op. No big deal."

He was carefully peeling off the bandage so he could do whatever he was going to do, and I felt Steve's warm hand pick up my right hand to inspect it.

"Hurt?" He asked.

"Not bad," I answered honestly. "A little sore but definitely not broken."

"Hmmm," he said, still manipulating my fingers, clearly checking for himself.

"One lesson from Captain America, and I thought I could throw a punch. Go figure, right?" I joked self-deprecating.

"Wasn't bad at all," Steve told me. "Just need to work on your form a little. Your alignment was off, but you got a good amount of power behind it."

I turned my head to look over at him, and I saw that he looked completely sincere, so I let a put upon Sam twist my head back around to him. Near as I could tell his was just cleaning it again and planning to put some sort of goop on it, if the tube I saw laying out was any indicator.

"I missed everything before you jumped on him," Steve said. "That was quite a tackle."

I grinned, and agreed, "it's become one of my better moves. Though I admit I don't always know what to do with them once I get them on the ground."

"What you did today seemed effective enough," Steve replied. "I missed the head injury though, what happened?"

"He waited for me outside the door instead of continuing to run," I started to explain.

"Thought you were faster than him," Natasha mused.

"Well, I didn't see it coming, so as soon as I cleared the door, he grabbed onto me and slammed me into the wall."

"Didn't think you'd be able to get up and go after him," Natasha concluded. "He underestimated you, and you made him pay for it."

"No lecture about how I should have seen it? Been aware of my surroundings?" I asked.

Really I was starting to wonder if I did have a concussion. I mean, it was just so weird.

Nobody was mad at me. Nobody was yelling. Nobody was waving their arms around. Nobody was telling me I was a hopeless disaster.

"I think the injury says it better than I ever could," Natasha said, wincing sympathetically when I hissed out a breath as Sam probed a little. "And really, you're still up and able to fight. You didn't even realize you were hurt until someone said something to you. That's all you can hope for at the end of the day— to live to fight another."

That was almost deep. Really it might have been if I didn't think she might actually just mean it completely literally. Natasha lived each day to fight the next. That was it.

So it was also a little sad.

I glanced over at Steve and he gave his head a small shake, so I let it drop for the time being.

"What's the verdict?" I asked Sam instead.

He didn't immediately reply, instead choosing to do the annoying shine a light in my eyes and ask stupid questions thing. But when he was done he said, "it's not really that bad at all. Head wounds just bleed a lot. Might scar a little, so we can take you to the hospital. They can probably get a stitch or two which might help a little. Might not. Up to you."

Steve had pressed into my side a little, and he was really warm, so I stripped off my jacket as I thought really quickly.

"What the hell," I said, gesturing to my arm bandage. "It's hardly my first scar, and I HATE hospitals. Just do your thing."

"Okay," he told me. "I'm going to use this on it."

He held up the little tube I'd seen earlier, and I got a better look. I asked, "is that super glue?"

"A bit more high tech than that, but similar concept. Truthfully I think this scars less than stitches on the face anyway, but I don't know if that's a scientifically proven fact. Probably not since this is a proprietary blend."

I was going to ask who made it, but he was already applying, and I thought it was best to just sit still.

"No follow up," he continued to explain the virtues of the glue. "No scary needles,. And you can get it wet."

He nodded apparently satisfied with his work and then capped the tube a little.

"These are single use, and that was small," he said. "Want me to take a look at your arm? Make sure it looks like it's healing well, and see if I can take your stitches out and replace with this?'

"Yes!" I eagerly agreed.

I was all for skipping having to make a follow-up doctor's appointment if possible, and I wasn't the best at remembering to keep my bandages out of the water when showering anyway…

Five minutes and a second tube of glue that I felt a little guilty for wasting but Sam didn't seem to mind in the least later I was good as new.

Okay, maybe not exactly, but I was on my way.

I stood up and stretched a little then eyed my three guests. "Lunch?"

"Why don't you hop in the shower," Natasha told me. "Clean the rest of the blood off, and we'll order up some pizzas."

When I got back out of the shower, Steve and Sam were sitting on the couch. They looked up and said, "Natasha asked us to have you come down to your car when you got out, and she said lunch would be about 30 minutes late."

Neither seemed to have more than that to say, so I shrugged, grabbed my bag and a different jacket, and took the stairs at a light jog.

"Don't be mad," Natasha told me as she leaned against the outside of the SUV. "And I promise, they didn't see enough of me to realize it wasn't you."

She had a brown wig in her hand that looked suspiciously a lot like my own hair, and I had no idea what she was talking about. Until she gestured at the SUV and I let my gaze settle on the inside of it.

Inside were the next FOUR skips on my list. All trussed up, blindfolded, and the one who was in the passenger seat looked to be slumped over.

"Maybe take him in last," she told me.

"What? Why? How?" I stammered at her.

"It looked like fun," she told me with a smile. "And it was. I wanted to see how many I could do while the shower was running."

"Sure," I said. "Why not?"

I took the keys to the SUV out, got into the car, and drove to the police station. All the while, I was thinking up and practicing the fibs I was going to tell to explain how I'd located and apprehended so many men in such a short amount of time.

It turned out not to matter as shift change had happened while I was gone, and the new guy clearly decided it was best just not to ask.

When I took my body receipts, I just made a bunch of vague statements to Connie and Lula until they pretty much decided that Ranger and his men had cleaned up my skip list for me.

Part of me wanted to be offended that they didn't think I could have done it myself, but they had a point.

I _hadn't_ done it myself.

Getting back into my car, I smiled at Steve who had just appeared inside while I was in the bonds office and looked to be alone this time. I twisted to look in the backseat, which was laden down with food.

I gave him a questioning look, and he said, "you didn't put your com back in, so I came to check on you. I thought it might be nice to eat without the other two underfoot?" When I grinned and nodded, he added, "I put some blankets in the trunk to sit on and keep you warm. Know anywhere we can go for a little quiet?"

"You mind if the pizza gets a little cold?" I asked.

"Not at all," Steve replied.

Forty five minutes later, Steve and I were at a little park in Point Pleasant. It was very off-season for all things Shore related, and the place was mostly a ghost town. Steve used one of the blankets he'd brought to make a shelter to shield us from the wind, and the other we cuddled under together. It wasn't warm, per se, but it was warm enough that I didn't feel the need to rush out of there or risk dying of exposure to the elements.

As we ate, I told Steve stories of growing up under the constantly watchful eye of The Burg in the shadow of my perfect sister Valerie, also known as "Saint Valerie". I also shared some of my wilder moments such as jumping off a roof trying to fly like Wonder Woman as a kid and sneaking out my bedroom window as a teen.

In turn, Steve told me about growing up the sick kid of a widowed mom during the Great Depression and how he learned to hate bullies so much. Which quickly morphed into stories of various spots Bucky'd had to get him out of.

I shared about how I went to college, got married, caught my husband cheating, got divorced, lost my job, and then blackmailed my way into my current job as a bounty hunter.

Steve told me about going to recruitment center after recruitment center, lying on enlistment forms, continually getting rejected, and then finally having Dr. Erskine take a chance on then select him for the super soldier program.

I explained about coming across Morelli again as an adult when he was my first bounty hunter case, managing to bring him in while also clearing his name, and then starting up the on/off relationship that involved multiple maybe engagements and my final realization that he was just jerking me around that had cause me to break up with him. I also honestly shared about my occasional encounters with Ranger, the limits _he'd_ placed on our non-relationship, and my eventual decision that flirtation and innuendo weren't enough for me either. Which brought me to the place where I was ready to explore whatever Steve and I were going to become.

Steve told me about Bucky's failed attempts to find him a girl before the war, Peggy, and the devastation of waking up seventy years in the future to find her sharp mind lost. He explained how he threw himself into work as a coping mechanism, rebuffed Natasha's attempts to set him up, and how sad he was when Peggy died. But apparently in one of her more lucid moments, she'd written him a letter that had been delivered after her death. He didn't tell me exactly what it said, but he explained how healing it had been and how he now felt ready to consider the future- including finding someone new.

By the end it was getting dark, and try as I might to hide it, Steve figured out that my teeth were chattering and our makeshift shelter wasn't keeping me warm enough anymore. So he'd wrapped me up in both blankets and carried me back to the SUV like a fluffy Stephanie burrito.

He did so at a run, and I was laughing hysterically by the time we got there. By the time I wiggled my way out after he set me sideways on the driver's seat, he was laughing too, standing in the door and mostly blocking the breeze.

I stared up at him, looking way more light and at ease than I would have assumed he was capable of before I met him, and I felt something in me slide into place inside of me.

I was overcome with a feeling of rightness.

He obviously picked up on my change in mood from playful to serious because he stopped laughing but stayed relatively relaxed as he tilted his head to the side and asked, "what?"

Honest to God, I couldn't help myself.

I reached up, laced my fingers behind his head and neck, and pulled his lips down to mine for our first _real_ kiss.

He drew in a breath right before our lips met, like he was preparing himself, and it was absolutely adorable.

Of course as our mouths opened and we sunk into a deeper, more thorough exploration, he no longer seemed adorable per se. He was sexy as hell. In terms of relationships, there may have only really been Peggy before, but it was clear that he had gotten plenty of experience elsewhere.

"I'll have to ask him about that sometime," I thought. Then I lost all ability to think.

When he eventually pulled back, we stared at each other for a few moments longer. Then a particularly powerful gust of wind blew into the car and made me shiver, breaking the spell.

"Hands," Steve said huskily in warning as he stepped back and then proceeded to shut the door for me. He quickly opened the back and placed the blankets inside before jogging the rest of the way around to the passenger seat.

He slammed his door shut and looked at me expectantly, "Come on, Steph. Start the car and get the heat going."

"There was plenty of heat," I teased even as I turned the key in the ignition.

In response, Steve leaned partway over the console and pulled me to him, pressing a kiss of his own to my lips.

"Probably not helping the windows defog," I said with a laugh when he sat back once more. "I'm not sure I care though."

"I'll keep my hands to myself." Steve promised before adding, "for now. Besides kissing you is very distracting, and you have some people after you. If they got to you because I was too wrapped up in kissing you to notice they were coming, I would never live that down."

I smiled at him one more time before turning to face forward and turning the SUV toward home.

Once we got there, I was pleasantly surprised that neither Sam nor Natasha was overly nosy. They asked if we had a good time, but they dropped it once we answered that we had.

My furniture was pushed to the side once more, and we then spent the next couple hours alternating between them showing me some self defense moves and taking breaks.

They probably had figured out that I was not the most physically fit person, but they didn't push or take digs at me for it. Instead they worked to make sure I was comfortable while, I was certain, testing my limits.

At one point, I apologized saying, "I'm sorry. I know I'm out of shape, I just HATE running. And I can't seem to make myself do it."

"If you don't like it," Steve said, "then don't do it."

"Wait what?" I was a little shocked by this since I figured they would be trying to push me to be able to run a 7 minute mile for safety or something.

"If you hate running, don't do it. That's terrible motivation, and you'll struggle to make yourself do it or make any real progress. You shouldn't force yourself to do something you dread. Instead, find something you DO like, and do that. Or if you're dead set on making yourself run, which I get would be useful with your job, then work the thing you actually like into it. Run a bit, do the activity. Then repeat," Steve face looked eager as he told me this.

Huh. That… actually made sense. The only times I ever ran were when Ranger or my pants made me (by not buttoning).

"I don't know what I like," I replied slowly because I was searching my brain for _something_. How did you tell someone you had a crush on (and were definitely developing feelings for) who was clearly physically fit and worked out a ton that you hated exercise?

"If you want, we can help you find something," he offered. "But only if you want."

"Are you going to make me wake up before the sun is even out to exercise?" I asked suspiciously.

Steve held up his fingers in turn saying, "1) I am not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, and 2) see again, you shouldn't make yourself do anything you don't want to do or dread doing. If it's hard to wake up early to exercise but you want to, great. Then you push yourself and that's when you exercise. But if the very idea of that makes you want to burrow into your bed and never leave, then do it another time."

Wow. I never knew exercise could be like that. Ranger always made me get up at what felt like the middle of the night and go when he was making me run.

"You pretty much make your own schedule anyway, right?" Sam asked.

That was a good point. I usually got to the bonds office around 9, but there was nothing that actually said I had to do that. I didn't have set hours.

"This is refreshing to even think about," I said.

"Well good," Natasha said. "Any idea what you might like to try?"

"I don't even know where to start," I told her truthfully.

She, Sam, and occasionally Steve started listing off various options emphasizing the value of doing things that were cardio oriented some days and things that were geared toward strength on others.

When they finally came to a stop, I felt a little like a kid in a candy shop when I said, "everything. I think I want to try a little of everything."


	13. Chapter 13

I knew just because I was working out with the Avengers didn't mean it would have an effect any sooner than working out at a gym. And I really couldn't expect it to have changed that much so quickly. It had only been a week.

And yet, I found myself more than a little put out as I chased my skip, Blake Peterson, through the mall and noted that he was widening the gap between us.

"Damnit!" I cursed under my breath. "Son of a bitch!"

"STOP! Bond enforcement!" I yelled, not for the first time since he'd started running from me in the mall. I was getting more out of breath by the second, and my focus was primarily split between my FTA and trying to suck in more air.

And that was why I didn't see either thing that happened next coming.

The first was Steve, although usually happy to leave me to my bounty hunting on my own, deciding to intervene oh so carefully. I almost didn't recognize him with his baseball cap pulled low and the jacket he had hiding his physique. I might not have given how intent I was on my target if I hadn't seen him, walking toward us, stick his foot out and send my skip sprawling without breaking stride.

Probably I should have been offended that he hadn't let me finish the job myself, but I was so happy to not have to run any further that not even a trace of annoyance crossed my mind.

Of course that could have also been because of the second thing that happened right as I got to Blake and started wrestling him into handcuffs.

A woman dressed as a cat yowled, "pussy" at me and threw an actual cat on me. A giant fucking cat at that.

I'll admit, I was taken by surprise enough that I freaked out and screamed as the cat made contact with my body, which in turn scared the cat whose claws dug into my flesh.

"Shit! FUCK! SON OF A BITCH!" I yelled as I attempted to pull the cat off myself, feeling its claws, which were apparently hooked into me, rip more skin off as they exited.

Peterson was still struggling under me, so I only felt minimally guilty when I dropped the cat on top of him.

"JESUS CHRIST!" He yelled, "Get it OFF me!"

I shamelessly finished cuffing him then stood up trying to assess how to get the cat back off him without shedding any more blood.

Apparently the cat saw that as an opportunity because as soon as I was up and it had more space, it was out of there faster than a speeding bullet.

I pulled Blake to his feet, and looked over at where the woman who'd thrown the cat was standing hands over her mouth in horror.

"What the hell?!" I asked her, trying hard not to start shouting and causing even more of a scene. "Are you the person who vandalized my car?"

"N-n-n-n-oooo," she half wailed. "I'm so sorry. He told me it was your cat, you'd catch it, and the 'pussy' thing was an inside joke so you'd know who had found your cat for you."

"What?" I spat out. "You're making no sense."

"Some man left that cat on my porch in a cage with a cell phone taped to it," she told me. "When I opened my door, the phone rang, so I answered it."

"Sure," I said slowly. I mean, I probably would have done the same.

"He told me he was a neighbor of yours and he'd just found this cat that was on the missing posters but he was allergic and couldn't bring it to you himself. And he said you were such a cat person that you'd get a kick out of the costume and preferred the term 'pussy' in reference to cats," she said it all so earnestly I could only draw the conclusion that she 100% believed what she was saying.

"And you believed him?" I couldn't stop myself from asking the question. I was utterly fascinated by her stupidity.

To be fair, she looked absolutely mortified at the moment, so at least she probably understood now how dumb it all was.

Before she could respond, a security guard came up with the demon cat in his arms hissing and said, "ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to take your cat and leave."

"That's not my cat!" I argued. "I don't have a cat! I have a hamster!"

The woman had fled as soon as my attention was turned away from her, so I couldn't exactly try to get her to take the cat or responsibility for the situation.

"A number of people saw you with this cat, Lady." The guard told me, "you need to take it and go."

"She assaulted me with that cat," Peterson interjected.

"Oh give me a break," I rolled my eyes. "That woman threw the cat on me, and it scratched the hell out of me. You got off easy. And I don't care what you do with that thing, but I'm not taking. It!"

I was addressing the guard by the end and suggested, "call Animal Control or something."

A murmur ran through the crowd that had gathered around us at that suggestion. Apparently Animal Control was likely to take the cat to the pound where it would be killed if nobody adopted it fast enough.

Popular opinion seemed to be that this was an adult cat, and adult cats weren't adopted out as easily.

"Cry me a freaking river. Not my cat, not my problem," I thought.

Except the cat had stopped hissing and now was looking at me all pitiful and remorseful.

"I can't have a cat," I told it, almost apologetically. "I have a hamster."

The rumbling in the crowd was getting more and more intense, and I thought I heard the words, "cat killer" thrown around.

"Cripes!" I yelled. "Just give me the damn cat!"

I used the arm not holding my skip to scoop up the cat and started to leave when an old lady called out from the crowd, "what are you doing? You can't just take a cat in the car like that! You need a carrier!"

Twenty minutes later I had a cat carrier, cat food, litter, a litter box, and a free sample of treats that I was wrestling out to the car with my skip- all for a cat I had no intention of keeping. And I walked out to the parking lot where my car had been parked.

I stopped short, and Peterson complained, "come on. I don't have all day, you know."

Actually, I was pretty sure court was already closed for the day, and so he did, in fact, have all day, but I didn't think I should tell him that.

"I have a cat that… I just don't know what," I started. "And my fucking beautiful car is on fire."

"So. Does that mean I get to go?" Peterson asked.

"No you don't get to go!" I shouted at him.

A car pulled up to the curb in front of us with a screech of tires, and the driver got out. I had a flash of recognition that it was actually Bucky (with his head down and face shielded from us, metal arm hidden in a jacket) just in time to catch the keys he threw to me as he took off at a run away from us.

"Thanks!" I called out after him, and his hand shot up in acknowledgement.

"WANT A CAT?!" I tried yelling after him, but he was already gone.

Fifteen minutes later, I was walking back out of the police station, and the car Bucky had given me was gone. It was possible that it had been stolen, so I hadn't really been looking forward to driving it again anyway.

Of course, that meant I was stranded.

Bright side- the cat had been in the car. So whatever had happened to it, that was no longer my problem.

I pulled out my phone, trying to decide who to call.

Ranger was in the wind, but I could call his second in command, Tank, and he would have a Rangeman come pick me up.

I could call my parents' house, and my dad would come get me in the taxi. Of course, then I would have to tell them that I'd destroyed two more cars and lost a third (maybe. It was also possible Bucky had taken it back), and my mom would start ironing away her stress and asking me why I couldn't be more like my perfect sister, Valerie.

There had been a brief moment in time where Valerie hadn't been perfect. Her husband had left her for the babysitter, she'd moved back home, and she'd gotten pregnant before she got married to my now brother-in-law. Of course, she now was married to him, and they churned more children out at a frightening rate, but my mother seemed pleased as punch with all the grandchildren, so I was the problem child once more.

I pulled my phone out and stared at it, but before I could a black Porsche Cayenne pulled up. Ranger.

"Babe," he said when I opened the door.

"I thought you were in the wind," I questioned.

"I'm back," he needlessly explained. Which was a surprise. Ranger rarely said more than was absolutely necessary.

He pulled away from the curb and we drove in silence for a couple minutes before he said, "what's going on between you and the Captain?"

I squirmed in my seat uncomfortably as I said, "he's protecting me, and we're getting to know each other."

"I didn't think you went for the boy scout type," he told me. "Morelli couldn't handle your job, but you think Captain America will? What is he going to do when you break the law to catch a skip?"

I sat there fuming for a couple minutes, taking deep breaths and counting. Confusing lust and sexual encounters aside, Ranger really had become one of my best friends. And I wanted to preserve that.

"You've told me to move on more than once," I told him.

"I have," Ranger agreed. I cast a glance sideways at him, and saw his jaw clenched tight despite his otherwise blank face. "He still doesn't seem like your type."

"Steve took down the world's biggest spy agency in like a day," I reminded him.

"So it's Steve now, is it?" Ranger asked.

It seemed Natasha was right, and Ranger was putting a lot of significance on the change in how I addressed Steve. Of course, calling him Captain Rogers HAD been my way of trying to remind myself that I could look but not touch when I first met him, so I supposed they all had a point.

"Why do you care?" I asked bluntly. "You can't have a relationship because your karma is all messed up and you have bad enemies, and I need to look somewhere else if I want that. So why do you care where I look?"

"I don't want you to get hurt," Ranger said quietly.

"Physically or emotionally? Because I seem to do a good job of stumbling into danger on my own anyway," I told him.

"Or because I'm helping you," I thought, but I didn't really want to guilt him at the moment, so I didn't say it outloud.

Instead I added, "and no matter who I date, emotional is always at risk. And to answer your earlier question, I do think that he will support my job."

I decided not to mention how much Steve and his teammates had been working with me over the last week while Ranger was gone.

"What if I was willing to give you more?" Ranger asked quietly.

I went completely still. I didn't know how to handle this moment. I'd never seen it coming.

"Are you?" I finally asked.

We pulled into the parking lot, and Ranger turned off the car. We both sat there without talking for a few more beats before Ranger looked over at me, smiled, and brushed my hair behind my ear. "I could try."

Ooooh boy. The look he gave me was pretty much the definition of smolder. And since I'd gotten to know Ranger, I had dreamed of this moment.

But here's the thing. I didn't actually  _believe_  him.

Well, he might try, but I really wasn't sure his heart would be in it. Or maybe that wasn't fair. Really I wasn't sure that he COULD give me that.

I looked at him for a couple loud, thunderous beats of my heart longer, and then I quietly unbuckled my seatbelt, and I put my hand on the door handle. Ranger's hand came up onto my arm closest to him, and he asked, "Babe."

"I don't think you could," I finally said. Then I gathered up all my mental fortitude and used it to push the door open and get out of the car.

I half expected Ranger to follow me, but he didn't. So I walked across the parking lot and up to my apartment, still in a bit of a shock over that entire conversation having happened.

When I opened my front door, I could hear music playing quietly and I wasn't surprised to find that it was Steve who was inside already, sitting on my couch and waiting for me.

He was looking right at the entryway when I walked in, clearly braced and ready for a fight if necessary. But as soon as he saw me, he relaxed and gave me a big smile as he got to his feet.

And it really should be illegal for a man to look THAT good.

All at once I was hit with an overwhelming wave of guilt, and something must have showed on my face because his smile dimmed just before I blurted out, "Ranger's back."

Steve raised his brow, but his smile came back as he said, "I know."

"Right, business partners," I realized.

"Also you're still wearing your earpiece," he told me gesturing upwards. Then he strode to me, and cupped my chin with one hand while pulling the earpiece out with the other. "Are you okay?"

I blew out a breath that might have been a little shaky. But once I did, I realized I actually really was feeling better.

"Yes," I told him. "He was acting a little weird, and well, I mean, you heard."

Steve dropped a quick kiss to my lips, and he looked me in the eyes as he said, "he's realized what he's losing. Can't say I blame him for being upset about that."

"You're not mad?" I asked incredulously.

"Why would I be mad?" He seemed surprised. "You're your own person, and you told him the truth."

Then his face turned a little sly as he added, "which reminded me that we've only had the one date so far, so I thought maybe tonight we could have another?"

"Sure!" I agreed. "What do you want to do?"

An almost pained look crossed Steve's face, and I was pleased to realize that I already knew what it meant. Steve needed to say something, but for some reason, he was worried that whatever it was he would fumble. And that I'd get mad. Because Steve wasn't always the smoothest, and I knew he sometimes felt like the scrawny man he had been before the serum.

I smiled and said expectantly, "yes?"

"I think you probably want to clean up a little before we do anything else," he told me. Then he rushed to reassure me, "you look great, I'm just worried about those scratches getting infected."

I looked down at myself and remembered my incident with the cat with a wince. I was pretty sure I didn't actually look great.

"Yes," I agreed. "I'll go take a quick shower and then see what else I have to go on the scratches."

"Take your time," Steve told me. "We're in no rush."

I could tell that he genuinely meant it, but at the same time, he'd showered in my apartment before, and I was aware of the fact that he could do so in under two minutes. And still come out smelling and looking great.

I walked into my bathroom to start up the shower and took a deep breath. Speaking of smelling great, he'd obviously been in there earlier. He actually reminded me a little of Ranger in the way that his scent kinda lingered. Though in Steve's case, I was pretty sure it wasn't body wash. If anything I thought it might be his shaving cream. I'd never seen so much as a hint of five o'clock shadow on him, and I figured that must mean he shaved regularly.

Not that I'd seen a trace of his toiletries, stubble, or any other mess anywhere in my bathroom. I was hoping he wasn't so neat that he wouldn't be able to handle my definite lack of neatness.

Realizing that I had drifted off into thought, I shook myself back to attention. Then I quickly tested the water temperature and jumped in the shower, letting out a hiss of pain as the hot water reached my MANY scratches.

When I got back out, I quickly pulled on a thong, clean jeans and a bra, feeling a little weird standing around naked in my apartment with my boyfr… no. We hadn't gotten that far yet. I guess he was the guy that I was dating, and kissing sometimes, and almost living with due to extenuating circumstances who was kind of also like a bodyguard in a way.

That was a long label for him. Steve. Maybe I'd just think of him as my Steve.

I smiled to myself at the thought then was brought back to myself once more, this time by a brief knock on the door. It was followed by the man in question opening the door and calling in to me, "I brought first aid supplies."

I looked down at my bra. It had lace on the sides and back, but the front was opaque. And I had pants on, so I was more covered than at a trip to the beach, if you thought about it.

"I'm mostly decent," I responded. "You can come in."

Steve opened the door the rest of the way and immediately froze. His eyes were fixated on me, and I immediately felt a hint of dread in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly I was wishing that I'd given up doughnuts years ago. Or maybe that I'd started working out more recently than just the past week.

My arms came up over my front and I stammered out, "I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

I trailed off not really sure how I was going to finish that sentence. I hadn't thought it was a big deal until I was actually in the moment.

Once he was there looking at me, I was painfully aware that Steve had not, in fact, seen me naked or without a shirt yet. And also he didn't have any spare fat on his own body.

Steve cleared his throat and looked up at me. It was like he had switched a flip and he was all business as he laid the kit out on the counter and pulled out items. He turned toward me as he said, "it's fine. I've had to clean Natasha up after battles before."

Then he froze again, and this time he flushed red.

"I just made it so much worse, didn't I," he asked in a panic.

Weirdly that was the moment that made me okay once more. But I couldn't resist teasing him just a touch as I said, "well that depends. Is that your way of telling me that you're not interested in my body? Or that you lied to me when you told me that you and Natasha were just friends and teammates and never had or wanted anything more?"

Steve's eyes widened further as he said, "neither! Definitely neither. You look- you are-" he cut off and flushed again, this time in frustration.

"You look beautiful," he finally told me. And when he managed to actually look me in the face again and realized I was teasing him, he relaxed enough to smile and say, "and Natasha and I never."

"Okay," I said softly with a gentle smile. After all, he really had been nice about the whole Ranger thing, especially considering I had sex with Ranger right before Steve and I started seeing each other. Not that Steve and I had any kind of agreement or anything.

"This might sting a little," Steve said apologetically as he focused on the task at hand.

I sucked in a breath but didn't say anything as the initial pain flared. Once I got used to it, I asked, "what are we?"

"Huh?" Steve asked somewhat distractedly. He was clearly concentrating.

"I mean, to each other."

Steve seemed to ponder that a little as he said, "well, we're in a bit of a strange situation because we're getting to spend a lot of time together all at once. But we've just started dating."

"So are we… exclusive?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not seeing anyone else," Steve told me diplomatically. "But I don't expect you to necessarily feel the same so soon, and I'm okay with it if you're not willing to make that commitment… yet."

Honestly that surprised me a little, so I thought about it. I'd expected him to be a little more old fashioned, even though from some of the stories he'd told me, I knew he definitely wasn't the virgin the internet and late night comedians liked to imply he was.

"When would you want that?" I prodded.

"It's not just my decision," he pointed out. "But I really like you, and I'd like this to become something real. So I think when we get to the point where we're having sex, I'd like to know that I was your only guy, and you were my only girl."

That was kind of adorable. But also the idea of having sex with Steve made me hot all over, and I was once more extremely aware that I was in my bra.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I changed my username for fun!

The next day, I woke up in a good mood that lasted approximately 10 minutes.

I'd gotten to sleep in until 8, and then getting up and ready hadn't taken long at all. Quick trip to the bathroom including brushed teeth, swipe of mascara, and a little lip balm followed by quickly pulling on workout clothes.

Then I stepped into the living room and kitchen area to find Ranger and Steve both sitting there in silence— Steve at the table with what was becoming the traditional breakfast spread made up and waiting, still steaming because he was freakishly good at timing everything and Ranger on the couch.

There was a bouquet of flowers sitting at the center of the kitchen table, which was set for four. It was a neutral location, but I knew that they were new. And that meant Steve had gotten them for me. My eyes locked with him, and he managed to quietly convey warmth and affection to me that had my cheeks flushing.

Of course, Ranger took that moment to stand, which drew my attention to him. From the far side, he pulled up his own bouquet of flowers, and he said, "Happy Valentine's Day, Babe."

"Oh, brother," I muttered. "I am not a bone for you to fight over."

Steve's eyes twinkled with amusement, and Ranger looked mildly put off, but not offended.

"We've been over this, Ranger," I told him calmly, warning in my voice. "We can be friends, but that's it."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Ranger replied easily. He walked over to me, handed me the flowers, then before I realized what had happened, he brushed a ghost of a kiss across my lips and disappeared.

"Well that was awkward," Natasha's voice said huskily from behind me.

I yelped and jumped, I couldn't help myself. Behind me was my bedroom, and she hadn't been in there. I didn't think.

Natasha made a tisking noise at my reaction, no doubt thinking she shouldn't have taken me by surprise.

"Where did you come from?!" I whirled around, hand clasped dramatically over my thundering heart and looked at her wide eyed as I asked.

Her mouth just twitched into a smile, so I figured she wasn't going to tell me.

I was going to assume she had let herself in through the fire escape just then.

I looked down at the bouquet of traditional Valentine's roses I was holding and sighed. I set them on the kitchen counter off to the side and walked over to Steve.

By that point, he was holding two coffee mugs, and offered one to me. I took it from him, but also stood up on my toes to give him a brief but meaningful kiss.

I said, "good morning. Thank you for the daisies. They're so happy and make me think of spring; they're almost enough to make me forget that it's snowing out. Again."

I'd heard the front door open and the sounds of boots being stomped out as I was talking, so I was not surprised when Sam came in a second later.

Natasha probably hadn't stomped her feet out in my bedroom, and a quick look down made me realize that her shoes didn't look wet or like they had so much as a speck of salt on them. Her brows just raised in a challenge, and I decided it was a puzzle I would solve eventually.

"It's supposed to get really nasty out later this afternoon," Sam told me. "I saw Ranger in the hallway, and he looked pissed."

Sam looked at where I was still standing right up against Steve, to the daisies on the table, and then over to the roses on the counter.

"He giving you a run for your money?" Sam asked, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Yes," Steve said.

"No," I insisted at the same time.

I felt my gaze drawn to Natasha who just raised a brow at me, so I explained, "Ranger just likes the chase. I think he'd love for this to turn into another Morelli love triangle type thing because then he wouldn't have to be the one to provide for my emotional well being. He could just have some fun when he wanted to, but he could always push me back to Steve. And I wouldn't ask him for a relationship."

Natasha just continued to stare me down, and I gulped a little. She was intimidating, but I knew this moment was important. She was trying to watch out for Steve, and I needed to make her understand.

"Nat—" Steve started to butt in, but I cut him off by raising my hand up.

"If you'll recall from that oh so embarrassing day or so before Steve let me know he was interested, Ranger wasn't interested in a relationship. I don't think that changed in the week or so that he was in the wind. He's just confused now because I actually DID move on like he's told me to do countless times over the years. But even if he did change his mind, I'm not interested. I spent years being jerked around by Morelli, and to a lesser extent, Ranger. Though Ranger was always clear where the lines were, so he wasn't stringing me along with lies like Morelli was. I don't want to go back to that or anything resembling that. And Steve is _nothing_ like Morelli. I like Steve, we're getting to know each other, I'm hopeful it will go well, and I am ONLY interested in Steve."

"Damn right Steve is nothing like Morelli," Sam agreed.

"Thank you," Steve seemed to address Sam, but his hand which had wound it's way around my waist gave my hip a squeeze that let me know it was really directed at me.

"And the kiss?" Natasha pressed.

"All Ranger," I told her. "And I think it was a goodbye kiss."

Probably. Ranger was complicated, but in the end, I thought he'd put a premium on preserving our friendship.

Natasha stared at me for a few more second then nodded and declared, "life is messy. The beginnings and endings of things as complex as relationships are rarely neat and tidy."

And then things kinda just shifted into what was becoming our normal. We ate some breakfast and sat around shooting the shit for a good hour after to digest.

"So, Steph!" Sam rubbed his hands eagerly as the last of the dished was put away. "What'll it be today?"

"I was thinking cardio kickboxing?" I told him. "You said you could do that, right?"

"Perfect!" He told me. "I am going to change it up a little from what you might find in a gym setting though. Given your job, it can't hurt to focus technique while you're at it. The more moves that you know, even from different styles, the more you might be able to pull out when you need it. Plus, fun though it would be, I don't actually want to see Cap's head explode from frustration in teaching you things that are almost but not quite defensive technique."

"I actually thought I might skip today," Steve said. "I want to get in a run before the weather gets too awful, and then I have a few errands to run. Kickboxing can be quite effective in a fight though— I've had to work against it before."

Natasha had either rented or procured by other means a big studio space that we used for most of our daily workouts since it was still too cold out— at least for Sam and I. Steve didn't seem to be overly fond of the cold, but he also didn't seem to be physically affected by it. And Natasha would just mutter in Russian whenever someone called it cold out, usually making it blatantly obvious that she disagreed with our assessment.

It was nearby, so a couple hours later, I was walking back into my apartment, carefully clearing it to make sure it was safe of bad guys and super spy training booby traps. I didn't see Steve, but a quick look at the mirror above my dresser told me he'd been back at some point— and with more elaborate mirror drawing supplies.

On the top, it said, "be your own superhero" in one of those pow bubbles like from a comic. And in the bottom corner, he'd drawn a little figure that I assumed was me given the hair with her leg up like she was kicking someone.

I chuckled at it a little then grabbed clean clothes to take into the bathroom with me when I showered. Of course once I reached it, I saw that Steve had decided to go all in with the mirror thing. The mirror above the sink simply said, "believe in yourself."

While I was in the shower, I had a mini panic attack over the Valentine's Day thing. I may or may not have (but definitely had) forgotten about it. Morelli hadn't been a Valentine type guy, and I guess it had just fallen off my radar.

As a queen of fibbing, I thought up a series of stories to tell Steve to try to shake him from shadowing me so I could go out and get something for him, but I couldn't think of what to get in the first place. By the time I made it out of the shower, got myself ready, and stepped into the living room, I had myself all worked up into a state.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked because of course he immediately clued in to my agitation. He was a tough one to sneak things by.

I blew out a sigh and said, "I forgot about Valentine's Day, and I didn't get you anything. And I can't think of anything to do for you."

Steve flushed a little and I thought he might have growled, which made me realize I thought he might already have an earpiece in for the day. And possibly Sam or Natasha had suggested something I could do for him.

Which was definitely an idea, but I thought maybe it was a bit soon for that- at least in Steve's eyes. Or maybe I was the one being gun shy about it because of the Ranger thing.

I'd have to think on that. Because if that was the issue, I needed to just get over it. Ranger and I weren't going to be anything, and Steve had already made it clear that he wasn't concerned or upset about the recentness of my past with him.

"Nothing would make me happier than just to spend some time with you today, whenever you're free. I don't know if you're planning to go out in the snow or not?" The last he said as a question, even though it wasn't really worded like one.

"I thought about that," I told him. "I think I'll go out while the roads are still at least a little passable. It seems like a lot of people will probably wind up staying home today, which makes them easier to find."

"Makes sense," he agreed. "Will you let us give you another car with four wheel drive?"

"Are you prepared for that car to be destroyed?" I asked him. Then in a rush, I added, "not that I would purposely do so… history just tells me that, well…"

"It might be a foregone conclusion?" Steve finished for me.

"That," I agreed. "I don't know if you have figured this out yet, but I'm a bit of a disaster. You may want to run while you still can."

Steve stepped forward, quickly closing the distance between us and then pulled me into him. He gave me one hell of a kiss before saying, "It's already too late; I've gotten attached to you. And you're NOT a disaster."

"Pretty sure there's an entire city that would disagree with you," I told him. "I'm certain at least half the Burg has been calling my mother about how I burned another car, and she's probably ironed everything in the house at least 5 times by now."

"What does ironing have to do with this conversation?" Steve had clearly gotten distracted.

"She irons when she stresses," I told him. "And she tipples a little from the bottle of whisky she hides in the kitchen. The ironing keeps her from tippling a lot."

Usually.

"Will I get to meet your family?" Steve asked curiously.

"How would that even work? I thought you were hiding," I told him.

"Mmmm, for now," Steve agreed. Then he playfully said, "so I guess that buys you some time."

"My family is definitely crazy," I agreed. "Gotta try to get you on the hook first."

Steve just grinned at me and shook his head then teased, "don't you have work to do?"

"Such a task master," I shot back.

"Well, the sooner you decide you're done for the day, the sooner I can steal your time all for myself on this Valentine's Day. I've never gotten to spend Valentine's Day with a special someone before."

Well, geez. Now I really felt like crap for not getting him anything. I thought he genuinely didn't care, but I really wished I could do SOMETHING for him. Then like a flash of lightning, the idea hit me.

"Hold on!" I yelled at him. "Stay right there, I'll be right back!"

Then I grabbed my messenger bag, found tape in the kitchen drawer to snag as well, and dashed back into my bedroom. I scribbled a note out, taped it to my bedroom window, and left.

When I got back to Steve, I grabbed his hands and hustled him to the door. I chattered constantly, trying to keep his attention on me by telling him about the skips I'd be looking for that day as we trudged into the new SUV they'd procured for me to use and pulled out of the lot.

Once we were out of sight of my bedroom window, I relaxed slightly. I had to figure that the Black Widow was onto me, but I was hoping she wouldn't blow my cover.

We pulled up outside of the house of my first skip of the day, Raymond Sobota, and I parked a few doors down. In the past, my cars haven't been able to stay idling for various reasons revolving around them being pieces of crap, but this one seemed nice enough that it was quiet and there wasn't smoke coming out of the exhaust, so I was hoping it wouldn't draw too much attention.

Since Sam and Natasha were on the coms with us, I asked, "have you found out anything more from the state cops about where I was held when I was kidnapped."

"I was wondering when you would ask," Natasha commented.

"I know, I know," I said. "Sometimes I like to go into denial land and pretend that bad things aren't happening."

"Did you remember anything new?" Natasha asked.

Probably she didn't want to taint any memories by giving me more information.

"Not really," I told her on a sigh. "The other day, I remembered that I had taken papers from Jason's apartment, but they aren't in there anymore. I assume Ranger has them. And other than that, I just remember all the foil everywhere. Then I don't remember anything else about my actual kidnapping. It is frighteningly, and annoyingly, blank in my mind still. I can't even see faces when I remember the people in lab coats. They all wore masks, and I don't remember anyone speaking to me or anything."

"Text Ranger," Steve said eagerly. "Ask him about the papers."

"Okay," I said slowly. "Should I ask about the foil too? I know he had some ideas on that."

"Guy was probably paranoid," Sam cut in. "foil would block radio frequency so people couldn't monitor him with bugs and the like. Of course it would be a pain because it probably cut off his cell phone signal too."

"It would prevent people from monitoring him with infrared as well," Natasha agreed.

"So, we've got foil theories covered then," I said with a small smile. "Should have known. You all are the best of the best after all."

"Ranger's pretty good too," Steve conceded. "In some ways."

I shook my head a little at that, but pulled out my phone. When I did I saw that I had a text message from an unknown number. First things first, I sent my message to Ranger, knowing it might take him a while to respond if he was busy.

Then I pulled up the new number.

"Do you really think I'm going to fall for that kind of trap? I wasn't born yesterday, just ask Stevie."

It took a lot of thought to keep my face blank as I typed out a response, "sorry. I just thought that it's Valentine's Day, and I didn't get him anything. And you would be the perfect present."

"I'm sure he'd rather spend time with you," came the response. Either Bucky was still eavesdropping on us, or he figured Steve would have told me as much.

I was betting it was the former.

"He and I have plenty of time to spend with each other, and really it's just a day. HE MISSES YOU. He would be ecstatic to see you. And where are you even staying? Does it have heat? It's going to be really cold tonight. Come in. Stay. Have a slumber party with us. It'll be warm, and we have lots of food."

"I can handle the cold," Bucky texted back.

"But you shouldn't have to," I responded. "Not if you don't want to. And why would you want to?"

I got no response after that, so I gave another sigh. It had been worth a shot.

"Anything from Ranger?" Steve asked curiously.

"No, sorry," I told him with a small smile. "Just got distracted with an old message."

Steve studied me carefully but then nodded his head. "You'd tell me if there was a problem or you were being threatened, right?"

I felt my eyes go soft at that. He was worried about me.

"I absolutely would," I told him. "Well, probably. But this was nothing like that."

"Probably?" Sam asked indignantly.

"Well, I mean, it depends on the situation, right? I can't predict everything that might happen, and I don't want to lie or promise I will as just a blanket statement like that," I reasoned. After all, Steve was big on truth. "What if it was something like someone who was threatening me to try to get to Steve?"

"Then you would tell _me_ ," Steve and Natasha responded at the same time, both forcefully and with almost the exact same inflection.

"That was spooky," I told them.

"Seriously," I could practically see Sam nodding along with me.

"Oh, will you look at that?" I interrupted. "There's Sobota now; gotta go!"

"We'll talk about this later," Steve called out after me as I made my escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for anyone who worried after my mention of not feeling great— all is well. Just some morning sickness which turns out to be extra draining when also corralling a toddler all day every day! ;)


	15. Chapter 15

I caught my skip, without any big muss or fuss, and I dragged him into the police station triumphantly. There was a tense moment where Morelli locked eyes with me from across the room, but much to my surprise, he simply turned on his heel and walked in the other direction.

Thank God. I did not want to deal with that on Valentine's Day of all days.

When I stepped back out of the station, my phone buzzed with another incoming text.

It was also from Bucky, and all it said was, "what kind of food?"

"Whatever kind you want," I texted back, feeling a little excitement creep in.

"Steak," he told me.

Well sure, that would be easy. There was just a freaking blizzard starting up, and everyone would be at the grocery stores, but sure. I could get some steaks.

"Still think he'd rather spend the night alone with you," Bucky texted when I didn't reply.

"I'll make it up to him," I reassured him.

"Make sure Widow is there too," he responded.

It was radio silence after that, so I assumed he was done with his demands.

Much to my surprise, Steve wasn't waiting for me in the car when I got back to it- Natasha was. That was convenient.

She made a show of tapping a button on her watch after I got in. The motion and deliberateness with which she made it reminded me of the key fob Ranger used to scramble cameras in Rangeman when he didn't want his men to see something I was doing. So when she asked me, "what were you keeping from Steve earlier?"

I answered honestly. "I decided to get him his best friend for Valentine's Day."

Natasha went so still it was spooky.

"You got Barnes to agree to come in?" she finally asked.

"As long as I get some steaks and you're there too," I told her.

I almost missed the surprised and considering look on her face when she took in the information, it was gone so quickly. And what she said was, "better get a few extras."

I started to panic about WHERE I was going to find all those steaks when Natasha said, "actually, I know a guy. I'll handle it."

If God kept this luck up, I was going to have to seriously consider going back to church. It was a red letter day so far.

Except for the whole Ranger confrontation and kiss thing. That had been awkward. And then Natasha had interrogated me about my intentions.

So maybe God and I were even for the day.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I didn't get struck by lightning, I figured the big guy in the sky and I were square.

I cranked the car engine over, and started to ease away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Natasha push the button on her watch again. Then she opened the car door and disappeared.

I could only assume she'd tucked and rolled, but somehow I didn't see her anywhere.

Fucking spies.

I drove around for a while trying to decide what to do. I only had a couple of outstanding skips at this point, and they were really only worth chump change. I'd have to clean them up eventually, but I really wasn't feeling motivated to do so in such crappy weather. And the roads were starting to get gross.

An alert had popped up on my phone earlier about a state of emergency being declared and highways being closed before long anyway.

I realized I was only a few blocks from Giovichinni's, so I drove past. Seeing that it was still open, I parked outside and dashed in.

It was crowded inside, and I knew then that the day had gotten away from me. It was almost dinner time for senior citizens, which meant the crowd from St. Francis Hospital a few blocks away was starting to trickle in, on top of the increased load due to the impending storm.

I didn't know how to cook though, so my options were limited.

I tried to be quick and deliberate as I went through the store. I grabbed some large tubs of potato salad, macaroni salad, and then figuring I had to look somewhat like a responsible person, I added green beans before going to the freezer section and picking up chocolate ice cream.

Then because I couldn't remember exactly what was left and what wasn't, I grabbed some bread, and some prepackaged turkey and sliced provolone.

When I reached the deli counter, I asked for four pounds of olive loaf as well. While she was slicing that, the impulse buy section called to me and I ended up with two more Entenmann's (raspberry swirl for Valentine's Day), and several packages of cookies and brownies.

The deli worker was eyeing the amount of food I had in shock, and good old Mrs. Wexler, one of my mother's friends, popped up next to me to say, "wow, that's a lot of food you have there. You having a party?"

"Nope, just hungry. And I figure I gotta get some extra just to be on the safe side with the storm," I told her, offering a smile.

"The storm will be gone by tomorrow afternoon," Mrs. Wexler told me.

"So will this food, probably," I mumbled. But at full volume I said, "I won't let it go to waste. You take care now!"

I grabbed the olive loaf that was being handed to me and scampered off to the registers.

When I got there, pushing a mini cart instead of just using a basket or carrying things in my hands like usual, Leslie Giovichinni eyed me in surprise.

"Hello, Stephanie! Happy Valentine's Day!" She greeted me. "Are your parents having a party?"

"No! Nobody is having a party!"

Okay, I was getting defensive, but honestly, what was the deal here. Couldn't a woman grocery shop in peace one damn time?!

I had TWO super soldiers to feed tonight, plus one Natasha, and I wasn't sure what else SHE had up her sleeve. But she hadn't sounded like she wanted a couple extra steaks in case someone was hungry.

"Ohhhh," Leslie said with a wink. "I think I understand. Sometimes you just have cravings you have to give in to right?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I responded carelessly. "I'm really hungry and couldn't decide what I wanted. And I wanted to get back home before the roads got too bad."

"Good idea," she said. "Especially in your condition. Say 'hi' to Joe for me."

"What condition? There's no condition. My leg is fine," I told her as I handed over a bunch of cash to pay for the purchase. "And Joe and I broke up, so I won't be seeing him."

"Oh, I just thought…" she trailed off.

"Well, don't," I snapped. "And if you see him, don't say 'hi' for me."

She looked at me a little surprised and then started counting out my change.

I groaned and said, "look, I'm sorry, Leslie. I didn't mean to snap."

"No, no, no," she said. "It's okay. You have a good night, and be careful out there in the snow!"

I was still mumbling to myself about gossips and people not being able to mind their own business when I parked in my apartment parking lot.

Steve was opening my door before the engine was even turned off. He leaned in and gave me a kiss then went to the trunk for the grocery bags while I pulled my messenger bag off the backseat. He had them all in one hand, so I grabbed his free hand with mine when he got back alongside me.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I grinned up at him. "Decided I didn't really feel like going after anyone else today. The bonds office is back in the black, and everyone else is small money anyway. Connie would have told me if someone big had come in. And I'll take her my capture receipt for Sobota tomorrow or the day after."

"Oh, the day after?" Steve's voice dropped down a register but also took on a playful quality. "Planning on being too tired to go in tomorrow?"

"Well, I don't know," I tried to joke back, but I was a little flustered knowing I was still wearing my earpiece so Sam and Natasha could hear us flirting. Plus I didn't know when Bucky would show. After all, I didn't want to start something and have him walk in on us. Something told me the Winter Soldier didn't exactly knock.

"Steph, I didn't mean to pressure you," Steve started. "I'm certainly not  _expecting_  anything to change between us just because it's Valentine's Day or the third date or anything. It was just a bad joke. How am I still so bad at this?"

He finished on a groan, and I couldn't help but laugh a little. "You're not that bad at it, let's just… see how things go, okay?"

"Nah, he's truly awful with dames," a voice gravely from disuse came from inside the apartment as I opened the door. "No matter how much I tried to teach him."

Steve froze at the doorway, mouth dropping open to gape at Bucky.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" I said excitedly. Then I dug through the bags Steve was holding and found the big Valentine's bow I'd also picked out at Giovichinni's.

It was oversized and made up of red and pink ribbons with white hearts on them.

I held it up triumphantly and said, "ah ha!"

Then I figured I'd only get one shot at this while the guys were distracted with each other, so I quickly peeled off the back of the sticker part, walked up to Bucky, and smushed it onto his chest.

He was wearing a white henley top, so it kinda matched.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" I cried wiggling my hands out to the side of my face in standard jazz hands style. "I got you a best friend! It's a classic model- hope you like it!"

There was a snort from further in the apartment, and I had to latch onto Bucky to keep him from rushing Natasha as he turned.

"Yeah, she does that," I told him. "Though I'd think you would be familiar with that trick."

"Not many people can sneak up on me," Bucky distractedly replied, eyes locked onto Natasha.

"You asked for me to be here," she said steadily.

Natasha appeared to be unarmed, but I would put money on her having at least a few weapons stashed on her body somewhere.

"I read your file," Bucky informed her.

"I guess that is the one thing about releasing every SHIELD file onto the internet," Natasha quipped. "No telling who will read it."

A quick smile passed Bucky's lips and he dipped his head in acknowledgment. Then he continued to address her as he said, "I was hoping Stephanie had the good sense to bring you in with her when they first got here. I wasn't sure what would happen when I saw him."

"Hey! I have plenty of sense!" I protested. When neither Bucky nor Natasha took their eyes off each other, I turned to Steve who was still staring at Bucky, completely dumbfounded, "Did I turn invisible?"

All three turned to look at me then, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Really? That makes you turn and look."

It was Bucky who spoke first, with a shrug, "we don't know what the Stern Brothers did to you. It was possible you actually could turn invisible now."

"The Stern Brothers?" I asked.

"Yes, they hired Sojourn Enterprises to get you for their research. That much I was able to discern, but I don't know WHY they wanted you specifically or WHAT they wanted to do with you," he told me. "The missing persons case was just a set-up. Granted, they really did kidnap him, but it was because they profiled that you would be brought in if they did which would make you easy to grab."

"Sorry, Steph," Natasha cut in. "There's a few things we need to go over first."

Steve nodded in agreement and finally said to Bucky, "you know who I am? You remember me?"

Natasha spoke over him asking, "you've broken their programming?"

Bucky focused back on Natasha, "I think so, or I wouldn't be here. The first time I thought about coming in, I saw Steve from a few blocks away, and all I could think about was my mission to kill him. It took everything in me to control it, so I stayed away and hunted HYDRA until this one called me in, whining about Valentine's Day."

He pointed at me, and everyone's attention was on me once more.

I gave Steve a small smile and said, "I wanted to get you something really good. You said it was your first Valentine's Day with a girlfriend."

Steve got a gooey, dopey look on his face at that and he pulled me into a fierce hug that still managed to respect how fragile I was in comparison to him and his super strength.

I heard footsteps and got the impression of Bucky and Natasha moving into the kitchen, which would put us out of their view for a little privacy.

I pulled my head back a little so I could look up at Steve. He let go with one hand to quickly dash away a couple of tears that were rolling down his cheek. "Sorry," he said quickly.

I stood up on tiptoes and reached up to pull his face down and give him a quick kiss, "no reason to be sorry."

"I just," Steve's voice broke a little as he whispered to me. "Obviously I knew he was in Trenton, and I knew he'd spoken to you. But the longer we were here without him showing himself to me, the less I believed that I'd ever actually get to see him again."

He cut off once more, and I tried to lighten the mood a little saying, "so good present?"

"The best!" Steve agreed with a smile and a nod.

"Better than spending the rest of the day alone with me would have been?" I asked with a smile of my own.

"Well," Steve started only to be cut off.

"Don't answer the question, Punk!" Bucky insisted. "It's a trap."

"Jerk," Steve taunted in response.

And the next thing I knew the two were locked in a huge hug.

Captain America was a hugger. Who knew?

Scratch that. I suppose that wasn't all that much of a stretch.

The  _Winter Soldier_  was a hugger. That was the one nobody would believe.

"Gross." A kind of immediately annoying voice spoke from the open doorway. "Feelings."

I looked around the mass of super soldier that hadn't released each other yet.

"Holy cow," I said. "You're Tony Stark."

"I killed your parents," Bucky said, still locked in Steve's arms. If anything, Steve's grasp tightened as though he was afraid Tony Stark was going to rip Bucky away at that. Which… maybe he had a point… but Bucky continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to, but they made me. Howard was a good man."

"Well HYDRA is a big bag of dicks," Tony Stark retorted. "I've had some time to work through it since I read about it in all those SHIELDRA files. Thanks for the bases to blow up. It was cathartic and shit."

Tony Stark looked at Bucky speculatively again then nodded and turned his head to me.

"Yes, I am Tony Stark," he answered my previous statement, even though it hadn't been a question. "I'd shake your hand, but I don't like being touched. Who are you? Are you the owner of this horrible apartment?"

"Tony," Steve warned.

"No," I replied slowly. "I rent."

"Totally not the point, Steph," I told myself, managing to keep the eye roll at myself internal. I thought.

However, Stark seemed to think I was sassing him because he pulled his sunglasses he was inexplicably still wearing off, and he smiled at me. "You, I like," he declared. "You can have a steak and a new security system."

He kind of waved his hand over me, almost like he was blessing me as he said it.

"Thank you?" I really wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"Tony has that effect on people," Natasha said steering me into my living room.

"They're still hugging," I whispered to Natasha as I took a seat on my couch. "Do you think I should be concerned about that? Did I bring in competition for myself?"

"We can hear you!" Bucky and Steve chorused from the entryway.

Apparently it was enough for them to finally separate, and they walked the rest of the way into the apartment.

To my surprise, Steve left the apartment door open. When he got to the couch, he stopped in front of where I was sitting and tapped me on my nose, "Buck is like a brother to me. One I haven't seen in like seventy years."

"Other than when I was trying to kill you," Bucky said remorsefully.

"HYDRA was trying to kill me," Steve insisted.

Rather than letting the silence stretch on and get potentially awkward, I asked, "are we expecting someone else?"

"Tony never travels alone," Steve told me.

"That's not true," Stark said. "But in this case, you  _are_  right. Natasha wanted us available to look at your fellow popsicle's head and make sure HYDRA was out of it, so I brought Banner. And then Barton insisted on coming too. Didn't want to be the only one left out. Other than Point Break, who is, obviously, off planet. And Pepper came too because she's wonderful and the light of my life."

"Point Break?" I asked timidly.

"Yeah, Thor. God of Thunder— actually an alien from another planet. Has a hammer and a mean swing," Stark said. "Keep up, Plum. And where is your other bird-y friend? I brought him a present too."

"Did I introduce myself?" I asked the room at large because Tony Stark had already walked away to do I didn't know what.

"He likes to pretend he knows everything," Natasha informed me. "He isn't as good at it as I am, and we try not to pander to his ego anyway."

I decided to let that go and instead I clarified, "your other bird-y friend is Sam, right?"

"Must be," Steve agreed.

"That's a lot of people. I'm not sure we're all going to fit in my apartment," I admitted.

"Why IS it so small?" Tony asked as he walked back in from my bedroom.

"Tony!" Steve sounded practically scandalized, and I couldn't help but laugh at his tone.

I answered though, saying, "it is small because I got it after my cheating ex-husband took the house and all our money in the divorce, and I got laid off from my job as a lingerie buyer."

"That's a job? Lingerie buyer?" Stark asked. "Why am I only now hearing about this? I am now questioning every decision I've ever made in my life that has lead to me doing anything other than that."

"Well, you are Iron Man," I told him. "So you're probably doing alright. And don't you have like a billion dollars? You could probably start a lingerie company, Mr. Stark, if you cared that much."

"Excuse you!" Stark turned on me. "First of all, it is Tony. Or Stark. But not Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark was killed by murder bot over there. Oh, hush up, Cap. He can take it. And second of all, it is so much more than just ONE billion dollars. But you're right about that last part. We should make lingerie."

"Tony," a voice said, warning clear in her tone, from the doorway. "We are not going to become a clothing company."

A tall, thin woman with strawberry blond hair pulled into a neat ponytail walked over to me. She was impeccably dressed and wearing killer, stiletto boots despite the snow on the ground outside. Stopping in front of me, she held out her hand and said, "hi. I'm Pepper Potts. Please call me Pepper. I'm sorry for— probably everything Tony has said since he arrived."

"He said I could have a steak," I replied. "That was alright. And I'm Stephanie Plum. It's nice to meet you. You can call me Steph."

Pepper's mouth twisted into a smile and she nodded her head in agreement, "well he's right about that. You can even have two if you want. We're pretty informal when we eat as a team, and it definitely looks like we can squeeze in between the couch and your chairs in the kitchen. We'll just have to be friendly, and some of us can double up."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than Steve scooped me up and plopped himself in my now vacant spot before settling me comfortably on top of him.

"You and Cap, huh?" Tony commented. "Well that ruined the joke I was going to make about him and Bucky, though it does explain why half the Avengers are  _still_  here instead of home in my Tower."

I stilled at that, "are they not supposed to be here?"

"Here in your apartment?" Tony asked incredulously. "Uh no. They were looking for Barnes, and could have just had simple surveillance running on this place for a couple days. As I understand it, there hasn't even been a credible threat on you."

"She was kidnapped!" Bucky finally spoke up in my defense. "And experimented on!"

"Allegedly," Tony said eyeing me suspiciously. "And nobody has seen any proof of it, right?"

"I've seen plenty of proof of human trafficking for experimentation purposes, and I personally pulled Steph out of a location that was set up as a lab for experimentation by the Stern brothers!" Bucky had his arms crossed on his chest, and he was looking very indignant on my behalf.

"Did you say the Stern brothers?" A quiet voice said from the doorway. I looked over and wasn't sure who it was, but his eyes were on me as he asked, "may I come in?"

He was looking as though he expected me to say no, so I wiggled until Steve let me up, and I rushed to the door. "Of course, come in! I'm Steph! Who are you?"

"I'm Bruce Banner," he told me still waiting on the outside of my apartment door.

I squinted at him, trying to decide who he was, "oh! You're the one who turns into The Hulk?"

He just nodded in resignation, and I said, "thanks for smashing all those aliens that time. Please come in, make yourself at home. I believe we were just discovering that Steve's been wasting his time here with me and also questioning whether or not I'm a liar and was ever really kidnapped."

There was an explosion of sound as everyone behind me started arguing, and a strange man dropped down from I didn't even know where. Had to be the ceiling, I guess, though how or why he was up there I didn't know, right behind Banner. My messenger bag was hanging by the door, and I acted instinctively, grabbing my stun gun, shoving Banner to the side, and stunning the man before he could touch Banner.

"What the?" Banner said, and I'll admit I was a little concerned that his skin looked to be tinged a little green.

In a second, Steve was in front of me, putting his body between me and the man who seemed to be fighting not to become the Hulk.

"It's okay," Steve said. Then he looked around Banner to the man in the hall and said, "It's just Clint. You know how he sometimes likes to see if he can wedge himself up in hallways and walk along them? It seems he did a good enough job that Steph didn't see his approach, so she tased him when he dropped down behind you unexpectedly."

"It's a stun gun, not a taser," I offered. "And I didn't want him to hurt you."

Bruce nodded his head and took a few breaths then said, "thank you for looking out for me, Steph. Tony, I knew we shouldn't have made him those gecko gloves. And no, Steve, he didn't suddenly become able to walk on the ceiling on his own."

"Steph," Steve turned to face me. "I definitely have not been wasting my time with you in ANY sense. Please understand that."

"Okay, team meeting!" Natasha declared. "Pepper, you need to come because—"

"Tony," Pepper agreed easily with a smile.

"And Barnes, we'll need your intel as well," Natasha continued. "Steph, I'm sorry, but we'll talk to you about what we can when we get back. Lock the door when we leave."

"Sure," I said. "No problem."

And then they all filed out, and I was left in an empty apartment for the first time in what felt like months, even if it had only really been a couple weeks.


	16. Chapter 16

In the profound silence of my apartment, I stood at the door watching the hallway down which the Avengers had disappeared. They'd taken the stairs, and I had no idea where they'd gone or how long they expected to be.

I didn't know what to think about the fact that apparently Steve hadn't really NEEDED to stay in my apartment. I guess it really wasn't all that surprising. After all, the way that Natasha and Sam came in and out made me think that they had a place very nearby they were using as a home base.

Steve could have stayed with them, and I was sure the Avengers of all people had top of the line monitoring equipment. It sounded like Stark was planning on installing security, but I imagined it could have been done when they first arrived— maybe not as well as someone like the technical genius I understood Stark to be would do it, but well enough to suffice.

I thought it was weird the way that Stark had seemed to flash hot and cold on me, but then again, from the few stories Steve had told, the guy seemed to have trust issues. And I thought I remembered reading something in the newspapers right around when Iron Man had showed up for the first time, about his business partner doing some really shady things and trying to kill him, so those issues were probably warranted.

I assumed Natasha had run some extensive background checks on me and probably knew insanely personal information like the results of my last gynecological exam (all clear), but maybe Stark didn't know that or needed to get to know me for himself.

Of course whether or not I could get on his good side was all academic if they decided they were needed elsewhere more urgently and left.

And where would that leave Steve and I?

When I'd convinced Bucky to come in, I'd been completely honest about not caring about a ruined date night with Steve if it meant him finally getting his best friend back. But I'd kind of envisioned the night would evolve into just Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam and I casually hanging around, enjoying some food and drinks, and exchanging stories.

I was excited about a whole new realm of Steve stories I could undoubtedly get from Bucky.

I wasn't expecting to meet the rest of the Avengers— or stun gun one. My stomach rolled thinking about the fact that I'd stun gunned Hawkeye so badly that Steve had to carry him off to the team meeting over his shoulder. I was pretty sure he used to be an assassin too, and that was a pretty awful first impression to make.

Just the idea of how he would react when he awoke made me want to hurl.

Actually… I wasn't exaggerating, I was going to puke.

I turned to rush to the bathroom, and something brushed my arm. Looking down I realized it was a dart just sticking out of me— poison or tranquilizing there was no way to tell. Great. I'd stood in the doorway to my apartment for too long, and someone had darted me.

I hated being darted.

Things got really wobbly and I saw… Jason's neighbor?... walk up to me. This time she had a few large men with her, and they seemed to be in a rush as two of them scooped me up. I saw the woman shut my door and do up all the locks, then they carried me out to the fire escape.

I was concentrating on not throwing up, which at some point, I realize was stupid. I actually would LOVE to throw up on my kidnappers. Even if it didn't somehow save me, I could at least have that small measure of revenge.

Turning my head, I puked all over the one who was carrying the top half of my body. He exclaimed in surprise and dropped me, my head smacking the cold ground and the man below me letting go so I was unceremoniously dropped with a thunk.

The bursts of pain combined with the shock of the cold wet snow jolted me out of my drugged semi-consciousness enough that I managed to stumble halfway up to my feet and try to run away.

I didn't think I was running in a straight line or very fast at all, so it was no real surprise that they easily caught me. Obviously pissed at my attempt to flee, the third man punched me in the face, and it was lights out again.

"Ms. Plum?"

"Ms. Plum?"

"I know you're waking up. Don't try to pretend otherwise," a voice spoke to me and pulled me back out of the darkness.

I opened my eyes and immediately threw up everywhere.

"How unfortunate," the voice said. "No matter. Now that you're back with us, we can get to the last step."

I felt a needle prick and searing pain rack my entire body. I screamed as it felt like my blood was being lit on fire, and I flinched reflexively, only realizing when I hit the ends of my bonds that I was once more strapped onto a metal table. I was fully restrained.

"Yes!" The voice said. "VERY GOOD. Fight it! Tame it!"

I screamed until I was hoarse, and I couldn't scream anymore. Still the pain filled my existence.

I felt myself wake once more, and I knew I had passed out from the pain. I wasn't sure how long I had been out of it, but I didn't hear the voice or anyone else around.

"Okay, Stephanie," I muttered to myself. "Time to move. Time to get free. You don't know how long you have until whoever gets back, and you don't want to be here when they do. You can't rely on anyone else to save you. The Avengers might have decided you were a liar and Bucky wasn't to be trusted and left. If they didn't go back to your apartment, they might not know you were gone."

I started working the bonds and argued with myself, "no. I don't know about the others, but I'm absolutely certain  _Steve_  wouldn't do that. And where Steve goes, Bucky goes, so that's two super soldiers who will try to find you right there. That's pretty good."

"Of course, they may not be able to find me," another part of me said. "And then what? You just live here being injected with whatever the hell that was as often as they feel like it? No! You  _will_  save yourself."

"Be your own superhero," this simple reminder came from another voice in my head, and it sounded an awful lot like Steve's voice.

Steve. I really liked Steve. I wanted to date Steve. I didn't just want to get to know Steve anymore. I knew Steve. We'd had the better part of two weeks together, and we'd spent so many hours trading stories, answering questions, getting to know each other. I didn't need more time to decide what I wanted. I wanted Steve.

"Okay, Steph," I told myself. "Then go get him."

But how?

I yanked up at the bonds, getting angrier and angrier as I failed to noticeably shift them. And then suddenly, I jerked free and overbalanced myself, falling to the ground naked.

I was pretty sure that I had been wearing a hospital gown a few seconds ago, but whatever.

I needed to get out of that place.

I pushed myself up, surprised at how weak I felt. Stumbling a little, I searched the room looking for something, anything, that I could use as a weapon.

I crashed into something metal and found a bone saw, scalpel, scissors, rib cutters… gross. I was pretty sure that all those things combined meant they either thought I was already dead or expected me to die and planned to cut me open.

Or, oh God, they were going to cut me open while I was alive?!

"Fuck that," I grumbled. "Nope nope nope. Nobody is cutting me open today. NO THANK YOU."

I grabbed the scissors and the scalpel. Then I noticed a bigger knife and traded the scissors for that.

One more quick look around didn't reveal any clothes, and being not naked seemed much less important than being not sliced open, so I decided to go with it for the moment.

I made it to the door, and tried the handle in vain. Locked.

I pulled and pulled and pulled, beginning to freak out about not being able to get out, but there were no windows. It was the only way. Unless! I rolled my eyes up. Drop ceiling. Perfect.

I picked the tallest counter, climbed onto it, and when I couldn't quite reach, I stacked a couple boxes on top of each other and used them to get myself higher. I climbed in and made what I thought would have been the equivalent of about three steps out of the room, and bam.

I crashed through one of the soft tiles and hit the ground below.

I was momentarily stunned, as was the security guard who had been sitting outside the door.

His mistake was stumbling up and coming toward me to try to get me himself without calling for help first.

It was pure instinct, but when he reached out to grab me by the shoulder, the hand that was holding the scalpel came up and slashed across his throat.

A totally disgusting spray of blood drenched me and I retched a few times at it as well as the surprised look that was stuck on his face and the thunk of his body as he hit the ground.

I killed him. Oh shit. I killed him.

I scrambled to my feet in a panic, but then I reminded myself that he was NOT a good guy. He would have turned me in for more experimentation or possibly killed me himself. It was basically self defense. Right?

And Steve. If I wanted to see Steve again, kiss Steve again, maybe even start making a life with Steve, then I had to get out of this place. No matter how many people I had to kill.

Maybe it wasn't the best, or most feminist motivator, but I had to go with that for the time being because it was what my brain had come up with. And I had to get out of there.

I was strong. What had Steve called me? Tenacious. I was tenacious. What I lacked in skills and training, I would make up for with sheer will to survive.

Thankfully, the guard had a belt on, I discovered when I got myself to focus on him again. Even if the clothes were covered in blood, they were better than no clothes. I stripped him and then dressed myself. Pulling the belt to its tightest setting, I thought it might just barely make the pants snug enough to stay if I needed to run.

I hoped. I'd chased more than one skip in sagging pants before, and they were often easy to catch because their pants fell to their ankles and tripped them up.

The guard also had a utility belt, so I grabbed that.

I now had an ID badge on one of those retractable cords, a set of keys, a gun, and a flashlight in addition to the scalpel and knife.

"Way to go, Steph," I told myself.

Luck was on my side, in a way, because although it had surprised me a lot, the scalpel had been a quiet method of killing the guard, and it seemed that nobody was alerted to my escape. Yet.

I felt around to the back side of the belt once more, and discovered a radio. So hopefully I would have some kind of a head start when they came for me. And they would come for me.

Then my fingers closed around it. My actual phone a friend. My lifeline. No ask the audience— there was no audience.

What? I'd always wanted to be a millionaire.

But it was an actual phone. I wished for a moment that I knew Steve's phone number. Why hadn't I gotten around to memorizing that? If I was about to die, I really wished I could say goodbye to Steve. And he'd be a really good choice for trying to get saved.

Still, there was a number I did know by heart, and my fingers were dialing it, hoping he would answer.

I heard the click of a line opening, but he didn't say anything.

"R-r-r-ang-er" I stuttered out at whisper.

"Babe?" He asked incredulously. Then, "are you okay? Where are you?"

"I killed him, Ranger. Oh my god, I killed him." That was still all I could really think.

"Who, Steph? Who did you kill?" He asked.

There was the sound of a scuffle on the other end of the line, and then I heard Steve's voice.

"Steph? WHERE ARE YOU?" No that wasn't quite Steve. That was Captain America. I was talking to Captain America.

"I killed him, Cap," I groaned and slid to the floor in relief that I was getting to talk to Steve, even if it was in his Captain America persona. "And I don't know where I am, but it's big. So there have to be more guards. And I just. I don't know what to do."

"Okay, listen to me, Steph. I need you to focus," the Captain barked out at me. "We are tracing your call. Was it a guard you killed?"

"Yes," I said. "I got loose, and I had a scalpel, and I fell into the hallway. And he came at me…" I trailed off and took a deep breath. "But I have his radio and I don't think they know. Yet."

"Then here's what you're going to do for me, Steph. First you're going to take another deep breath." He obviously heard me do so because he continued, "Good. Now. I need you to listen to me and do what I say. And no matter what, keep this line open as long as you can. Even if you have to stop talking to me to keep from being detected, don't hang up, okay? Now you're in a hallway, right?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"Okay, do you see any fire exit signs?" He asked.

"YES!" I had to keep myself from shouting. "It has a picture of stairs on it, so there's a staircase there."

"That means you probably aren't on the first floor, but that's okay. Alright, Steph. We're starting to narrow down the cell phone location. You're in Europe, okay. And that's not so far away. We're already in our jet, and we're coming for you. It flies faster than the speed of sound, but you're going to need to either find a place to hide or get out of there."

"Out," I practically shouted that. My gut was screaming at me that I needed to get out, and I needed to do it RIGHT THEN. "I'm going to the stairs now."

"Okay, are there any doors right near the stairs? Often that's where there are janitorial closets."

"Yes, I see one."

"Does it say anything on the outside?" He asked.

"I can't read it. I don't recognize these letters," I answered. "It isn't our alphabet."

Steve started to talk, but I cut him off, "well, that's not exactly true. The first one looks like a c, and then there's a t? And an e? But then there's a lot of symbols I don't know."

"Perfect! That should be a closet, Steph," Cap told me. "You can hide there if you need to. Can you open it?"

I tried the door, "it's locked." But then I remembered the card and looked to the side of the door. Card reader. I swiped and said, "I have a keycard. I'm in. Holy shit."

"What?" Cap's voice asked urgently.

"I thought it was going to be cleaning supplies, but it is not," I informed him distractedly.

"What is it?"

"Chemicals. I can't read them, but some of these symbols are pretty universal," I said confidently.

I mean, it really was easy. There were some bottles that had flames on them— small, medium, or large. Presumably the size of the flame referred to how flammable they were. And then there was something that HAD to mean explosive.

I hummed a little to myself as I pushed some aside and grabbed others saying, "big flames, big flames, explosive, yes please. Biohazard, radiation, pass pass. Explosive, big flames. Okay, I don't think I can carry more than this."

"Steph, what are you doing?" Cap asked trepidatiously.

"Making myself hard to miss," I told him. "Even from way up in a jet."

"Steph, be careful," he warned. "Just get out of there, we'll take care of the rest. You don't need to do anything big."

"I got this, Cap," I insisted.

It was entirely possible the adrenaline had gotten to me.

I opened the door to the closet as I realized there was increasing levels of chatter coming over the radio.

"Crap, I think they're onto me," I said.

I ducked my head out and saw security guards standing looking at the guard I'd taken out. So I rushed to the stairway door and had it open before they saw me.

Of course, it set off an alarm, so they knew where I was then.

"What was that?!" Steve was losing his calm, cool Cap edge at the sounds of the alarm coming over the phone.

I didn't answer him, I just ran down the stairs, hoping I needed to go down not up.

A couple times I dropped bottles, glad when they didn't seem to be the explosive ones— or maybe they just needed something else to make them explode. When I reached the last level, I took a deep breath and shoved the door open. Right across from me I could see a glass door leading to outside.

There were shouts from down the hall and I turned to see guards coming at me. They had guns drawn, but they stopped short momentarily when they saw the bottles grabbed up in my arms.

It was the opportunity I needed. I awkwardly threw everything I was carrying as far forward as I could, which wasn't all that far. Maybe I had grabbed too many jars. Regardless, I stepped back, thought I saw something smoking, and drew my gun as I hit the door to the outside.

One bullet went into the puddle of chemicals as I pushed the door open and the explosion that followed threw me the rest of the way out of the building.

I hit a tree, and the wind was knocked out of me. I didn't think I actually lost consciousness, but by the time I had sorted myself out, a good portion of the building seemed to be up in flames. And there was a lot of yelling. People running, but nobody seemed to notice little old me.

I stayed low in piles of snow that put New Jersey to shame, and slunk to the parking lot. Pulling the guard's keys out of the belt, I was grateful that he seemed to have a key fob like we used in the states. I pushed the unlock button frantically as I snuck through lanes. When a car's light's finally flashed, I waited for a minute to make sure nobody noticed and came running.

Then I made a break for it, throwing myself in the car, starting it, and getting it in gear. Thankfully that was a pretty universal experience, and before long I started driving.

As I did, I finally remembered the phone and picked it up and put it in my ear. I could hear Steve calling to me in a panicked voice, and I said, "I'm sorry! I was getting away from the building. I have a car! I have no idea where I am, but I am getting the fuck out of here!"

"What car are you in?" He asked, sounded like the relatively calm Captain America once more.

"The fuck if I know! It isn't a Ford or any other brand I recognized! It's a compact and it's silver," I told him. "And I'm driving really, really fast."

"We see you," he told me tersely.

"You're already here?" I asked incredulously.

"The jet is faster than that car," he answered. "Stop now!"

I slammed on the brakes and skidded a bit on ice and snow on the road, eyes widening as I saw the jet materialize out of nowhere in front of me, hovering a few stories above ground.

I skidded to a stop about twenty yards away and propelled myself out of the car even as the back of the jet opened up. Captain America jumped down and landed in a crouch, shield digging into the ground.

All the adrenaline started flooding out of my body at the sight or certain rescue, and I felt myself starting to fall— more weak and exhausted than I had been when I'd first gotten off the metal table in the lab.

Cap was there before I hit the ground, catching me and swinging me up into his arms.

"Hi," I said weakly. "That's a good look for you."

"Right back at you," he told me as he ran back to the jet and grabbed onto a rope that had lowered out of it. I felt the jet start to fly away, even as we started being pulled up into it.

"Yeah, right," I said. "Steve I'm covered in blood and wearing the clothes of someone I killed."

As we made it into the jet, Bucky reached an arm out to make sure we were steady as Cap stepped over onto solid ground.

"And you have never looked more beautiful to me than you do in this moment," Steve said.

And the truly frightening thing was that I thought he meant it.


	17. Chapter 17

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye as Steve set me down in a seat, and turned my head in time to see Hawkeye lowering his bow. From the angle he was at relative to where we had entered the jet, I figured he must have been providing cover for Steve.

He noticed me looking at him, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry for stun gunning you," I said feebly.

That got me a full on grin, and he walked over shaking his head. He offered me a hand to shake as he said, "they're never going to let me live that down. The name's Clint Barton. Nice to meet you."

"Steph," I told him. "Thanks for the rescue."

My gaze moved around to encompass everyone as I said it, but it was Barton who waved me off saying, "you did all the heavy lifting, and it was a little our fault you got taken. Well, not mine because I was still trying to unscramble at the time, but the team's."

"Not mine," Sam piped in, arms folded across his chest. "I'm the one who saw her get snatched so we could start looking for her right away."

"Lot of good it did us," someone muttered.

"Enough!" Steve yelled. "It happened because we were too busy fighting amongst ourselves to protect her properly! Let's not start up again now."

Before anyone could respond, Stark yelled from the front where he was apparently flying the jet, "Barton! I need you."

Clint disappeared in a flash, and moments later, Stark was approaching me cautiously.

"Any idea what they did to you, Steph?" He asked.

"No," I answered, startled by the sudden question. I figured they'd at least get me home and let me shower before they asked that question. "I just know it hurt a lot."

"Okay," he said, clearly making an effort to keep his voice slow and calm. "So here's the deal. JARVIS, that's my AI, he monitors all of our vital signs when we're onboard. And he tells me that you're running a little hot. So I'm going to need you to think cool thoughts. And also to let me have him give you a more thorough body scan."

"Can this wait, Stark?" Steve asked. "She's been through a lot, so I would think a chance to rest would do a fever more good than being subject to a battery of tests in the nude in front of a bunch of virtual strangers."

"In the nude?!" I shrieked. "That means naked. Why in the world would I have to be naked in front of all the Avengers?"

"Temperature approaching 200 degrees," a voice that sounded like it came from everywhere said. I supposed it was the AI.

"Nice cool thoughts," Stark restated. Then to Steve he hissed, "nice going! This is not just a fever!"

"Steph, I have a couple spare changes of clothes in here." Natasha was speaking calmly and holding out what looked like a surprisingly modest set of black bikini underwear and a sports bra. "You can wear these while they scan you. Come over here in this corner with me."

I followed her into a corner of the jet, and she held up a blanket to shield me.

"Thank you," I told her softly.

"Normally I would push for you to be able to wait, as you don't appear injured," she explained. "But it will take us longer to get home as we don't have enough fuel to fly back as fast as we did on the way here. And the heat is troubling. You've cooled down again, but we need to make sure you're stable."

"I understand," I replied.

But I really didn't. I didn't feel hot, even though they were telling me I was. And nobody had really said anything to me while I was with my captors.

"How long?" I asked as Natasha wrapped the blanket around me under my arms when I was done changing and started trying to guide me away. I grabbed the bottom enough with the arm holding it down to be able to walk on my own.

Instead of immediately following, I stopped to grab the clothes I had been wearing. "What do I do with…" I trailed off holding up the blood soaked items.

It hadn't escaped my notice that nobody had answered my first question, and I thought they wanted their scans before they did, for some reason.

Steve rushed forward with a biohazardous waste bag and held it open for me so I could shove the clothes inside of it.

"We'll check through them to make sure there's no important information anywhere in there, but then we'll burn them," he informed me.

"Maybe we'll let you burn them," Tony added. When I looked over at him, he just patted a table that looked to have folded out of the wall.

Bruce Banner was already standing at the head of the table studying a computer screen and squinting through his glasses as he did.

Steve put a hand on my the small of my back and guided me over. When we got there, I looked at the table for a second, then looked around. I sighed a little then dropped the blanket.

Tony looked me over head to toe, and said, "don't take this the wrong way, but were you on a diet in there? Because you've lost weight."

"What?" I looked down at myself, and when Steve nudged me a little, I just shook my head and climbed onto the table.

"Not a lot," Tony reassured. "You didn't really have all that much to spare, but I'd say at least 10 or 15 pounds."

"Uh, Tony?" Bruce cut in sounding mildly concerned.

And just like that, Tony's focus completely changed and he went over by my head, presumably to stare at the monitor with Bruce.

I had my hands up protectively trying to shield my body, and Steve sighed then batted them away to my sides, "don't listen to Tony. If anything I think you've gained weight."

"What?" I shrieked. And my hands flew back up again.

Natasha walked up and smacked Steve on the head, and he said in a rush, "NOT IN A BAD WAY. Muscle. You gained muscle."

Bucky came up and delivered a blow of his own, this time with the metal hand. It didn't look all that hard, but it did make an audible sound. So it probably really was painful.

"You look great," Steve told me. "You looked great before, and you look great now. Your greatness just redistributed a little. And I only know because I was helping you work out and watching you."

I blew out a breath because that made me feel a tiny bit better, but it also sounded creepy.

"You actually can be really bad at this sometimes," I muttered.

Steve pinched his brow and a pained expression crossed his face.

"I know," he told me. "I'm sorry."

I took pity on him and reached over to grab the hand away from his face and hold it.

"It's fine," I told him.

"You're beautiful," he told me and he leaned down to give me a kiss.

"Entertaining as that was," Tony cut in. "And believe me it was, until it turned all sappy there at the end. And the kissing. Gross. I don't need to see Captain Virgin here kissing a woman."

I opened my mouth to protest on Steve's behalf, and jump to his defense, but his hand tightened around mine. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head that told me it wasn't worth it.

Unfortunately Bucky either wasn't looking or didn't care, as he barked out a laugh. "Virgin? Steve? Ha! Not hardly."

There was a moment of stunned silence at how vehemently the denial had been delivered before Tony said, "oooohhh ho ho. Really? And how exactly do  _you_  know this, Buckster?"

"Not a lot of privacy when you share an apartment- or military living quarters," Bucky said, unphased by the implication.

"He got some as Captain America?" Tony asked, sounding fascinated. "I thought it was all wholesome pining away for Peggy Carter, and channeling unresolved sexual tension into fighting to preserve the American way of life."

Bucky smirked and opened his mouth only to have the elbow of Steve's free hand plow into him hard enough to knock the wind right out of him. I thought I might have even heard the crack of rib, but I couldn't swear by it. As I understood it, he healed quickly anyway.

"I don't know why I wanted to find you so badly," Steve muttered sounding quite put upon. "You're such a jerk."

"Punk," Bucky wheezed out with feeling.

"I think we have more important matters to address," Banner interrupted.

"But this was so much fun," Sam whined in the distance.

"And enlightening," Natasha practically purred in agreement. I didn't have to be able to see her to know that the little spy in her was greedily grabbing up new information about one of her teammates. And probably coming up with a list of questions and avenues of future investigation while she mentally took it all in.

"Well, I assume Steph already knew some or all of this," Stark said. "She's cooled down since we started focusing on Cap rather than her. No jealousy there, just relief at not being the center of attention."

I shot Steve an apologetic look, but he murmured, "it's fine. I could do this all day if it made things better for you."

"Awwww," Clint called out from the front of the plane.

"Bite me, Barton" Steve shouted out.

"No thanks- who knows  _where_  you've been," Clint yelled back.

Steve just shook his head, but a small smile was tipping up the corners of his mouth.

"We're getting some really interesting readings from JARVIS," Bruce broke in to tell me, clearly not wanting the conversation to devolve once more. "We're going to need a blood sample though."

There was a noise from the wall the bed had come out of, and suddenly a couple metal restraints closed down around the arm closest to it. I flashed back to being restrained to the table while the people who had me were experimenting on me, and I'll admit, I panicked.

The next thing I knew, there was a bunch of shouting that scared me even more. Seconds later, I fell a couple inches, only to be caught by an awkward, uncomfortable combination of Bucky's metal arm and Steve's shield.

Steve was leaning over me saying, "Steph. Can you hear me? Steph. You're okay. Just relax. It's okay. You're safe with us. Nothing is going to happen to you." I focused on him and slowed my breathing down. Once he was certain I knew where I was, his eyes went back over my head to where Bruce and Tony were. A couple seconds later, he nodded. As one, Steve and Bucky lowered me to the ground.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Hold on one second, okay?" Steve responded.

So saying he set his shield on the ground, and then moved me to stand on top of it, arms bracing me to help me balance on it. His eyes were carefully fixed on my face, in a way that seemed a little off, so I looked down at myself.

Yep. Naked. I was naked. Shit.

"What happened to my clothes?" I wailed just as Natasha rushed up behind me and wrapped me in the blanket once more.

"Your clothes?" Tony asked. "Just look at my table!"

"Tony," Steve's voice said warningly.

Bruce Banner walked around so that I could see him, as my back had been to both him and Tony. "I'm sorry, Steph. I should have explained what was going to happen. Your arm was strapped down in multiple places by JARVIS automatically as part of our inflight medical protocol. Wouldn't want to hit a bump of turbulence while the needle was in drawing blood. Do you mind if I take some manually? I'm not a medical doctor, per se, but I've had a lot of training."

"Uh, okay." I agreed.

"Do you mind if Bucky helps hold your arm steady?" He asked me carefully.

"That's fine," I agreed more quickly that time. Bucky wouldn't hurt me.

Banner pulled out one of those rubber tube things first and wrapped it around my arm once Bucky had a hold of it. He asked me to make a fist a couple of times before nodding in satisfaction.

That was when the needle came out, and I felt the panic starting to creep in once more.

"Hey, hey, Steph," Steve practically crooned at me. "Look at me. It's okay."

"This might pinch and burn a little," Banner warned me. "One, two, three."

I didn't really feel anything, but then again, I thought any sensation likely paled considerably in comparison to what I'd gone through when my kidnappers had injected me with whatever they had.

"So, I was thinking about how we still have to have our Valentine's Day to celebrate, even if it's a little late," Steve distracted me. "How would you feel about taking a day off and spending it in Brooklyn with me? I can show you where things used to be and a few still are."

"All the alleyways he used to get beat up in," Bucky commented.

"Would that actually be fun for you?" I asked curiously. "Or would it make you sad?"

"How could I be sad when I have you now?" he asked in return.

I laughed and said, "laying it on a little thick there, aren't you?"

Steve gave me a grin and said, "maybe. But I think it would be fun, if you're interested. I've been many times since I woke up, so most of the sad has worn off."

"Okay," I agreed. "That sounds nice."

I could hear Banner and Tony chattering excitedly to each other, and I started to lose my patience. I needed answers, and, quite frankly, I needed them soon.

Tightening my grip on the top of the blanket that was around me, I looked Steve in the eyes as I asked, "how long did they have me this time?"

"45 hours," he told me. "They likely spent close to half of that transporting you, I would think."

"Oh," I was a little surprised. "I would have guessed longer."

"Did anyone talk to you or tell you anything while you were there," Bucky asked gruffly.

"Not really," I told him on a sigh. "A man told me he knew I was waking up. I threw up when I did, and he told me that was unfortunate and that it didn't matter because we could 'move on to the last step'. That was when he injected me with something. And it hurt so much. Like nothing I've ever felt before."

"It's okay," Steve reassured me again. "You're safe."

"I was screaming. A lot. And I thought I heard him tell me to fight something. Maybe to tame it too? Anyway, I think I passed out not long after that."

"And when you awoke?" Natasha asked from across the way and to my right.

"Nobody was there, and I wanted to get away. I didn't know if you guys even knew if I was missing. With the way things were going before they grabbed me…" I looked at the floor, ashamed to voice it out loud, but I made myself continue, "I thought maybe you would have just decided you needed to leave or had somewhere more important to be. And it was possible you didn't even know I had been grabbed."

"I would never have just left you like that," Steve sounded positively indignant.

I met his gaze and willed him to believe me as I said, "I realized that. So then I decided that if you'd stayed in Trenton and were looking for me, Bucky would probably be with you. And two super soldiers was a pretty good rescue team. But I also thought that if the man came back, he might keep experimenting on me. Honestly, it hurt so much when he did it the first time, that I didn't know if I'd make it if he came back. And I wanted to see you at least one more time, Steve."

My voice kind of cracked at the end, so Steve's hands moved up my arms to the outside of my shoulders, and he looked me square in the eyes as he said, "I'm right here. And I would have come for you."

To my horror, tears that had been threatening to fall, started running down my cheeks. I tried to dash them away as I told him, "it's so stupid. But I thought of that drawing you put on my mirror where you told me to be my own superhero. And I imagined you saying that to me. That was what kinda pushed me to get myself moving."

"How did you get free?" Steve asked gently.

"They had me strapped down to this table, and I was trying to pull myself loose, but it wouldn't budge. Honestly, I was freaking out so much that I don't know how I finally got myself free. I was just kinda flopping over the side of the table like a fish out of water and hitting the ground. Then I looked around for weapons, and I found this tray…"

I felt myself start to hyperventilate at the information, and voices picked up around me. But I couldn't tell what they were saying, just that they were loud. It was almost like I was trying to listen to them through ear plugs or something. I was lost in my fears until Steve finally gave me a good hard shake.

"Jesus," Bucky said on an exhale when everything calmed down. "Swap out with me, Steve."

"I'm fine," Steve told him in the tersest tone I'd ever heard come from him.

Why wouldn't he be fine?

I looked down at where he was holding onto my shoulders and saw that his gloves appeared to be gone, and his hands looked blistered and burned.

"What the fuck just happened?" I asked. Then I patted myself again and wailed out, "damn it to hell!"

Natasha came rushing up with another blanket and tried to joke with me, "I'm not lending you any more clothes until you get this sorted out."

"I'm doing this?" I asked in shock.

"Everybody, strap in," Barton yelled back. "JARVIS and I have been doing our calculations, and we'll make it back now if we shift to max speed. And we need to get her OUT of this jet before she does actual damage to it."

"She already destroyed a perfectly good table," Tony sassed.

"Nobody cares about your goddamn table, Stark," Bucky growled.

I don't know why, but at that mention of the table, I finally turned and looked behind me at where it had been. There wasn't a table there anymore, but rather a pile of metal on the ground. It almost looked as though…

"Did that table melt?" I asked numbly. "Did  _I_  melt that table?"

"Yes," Steve told me calmly. "But it is just a table, it's fine. What we can't have is you doing that to the floor of the jet."

"Oh my god, Steve, your hands!" I said in shock.

He sighed and told me, "my hands will be healed up before we land, just you wait and see."

"I am so, so sorry," I was shaken to my core. "I did NOT mean to hurt you. I would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know," he reassured me. "It's OKAY, Steph."

"Get your asses in seats," Clint yelled once more.

"Steph really shouldn't," Bucky started.

"I'll handle it," Steve told him resolutely. "Go strap in."

"You're gonna need one hand to hold on to something," Bucky insisted. "That leaves only one hand to hold onto her. Too many ways she can fall off that thing. You'd be better off with her stabilized in two directions."

So saying he moved perfectly opposite to Steve, who nodded at him resolutely. Each man banded an arm around me firmly and braced one foot forward onto the shield. Their opposite feet took a step back so they were in a steady base. Their free hands came up and hooked onto straps to keep them even more stable.

"Ready?" Steve asked Bucky.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed.

Then Steve looked at me and reassured me, "we've got you, okay?"

"Okay," I told him.

Steve checked around us, making sure everyone else was seated. Then he hollered up, "punch it, Hawkeye."

Our eyes locked, and Steve said, "focus on me. Breathe with me."

There was a firm jolt and the noise from outside the jet got noticeably louder. We hit what I could only assume was turbulence multiple times, but I willed my brain to be filled only with Steve.

Even with Bucky close behind me, and the rest of his team minus Barton presumably watching on, it was an oddly intimate moment. I could feel him pressed up against almost every inch of my front, and I allowed my breathing to synchronize with his chest moving into and away from me.

And his eyes. His eyes were telling me that he had me, and he wasn't going to let me fall. And not just in the physical sense of the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was dealing with some stressful personal stuff, but hopefully that is all good now and I'll be able to get back to posting/writing. *crosses fingers*


	18. Chapter 18

I had no idea how long the flight lasted, but I did know that something profound had happened between Steve and I in those minutes of hurtling across the sky at supersonic speeds. And with it, this buzzing and anxiety I had been feeling cleared out, leaving me at peace in a way I hadn't been- possibly in my whole life.

I'd never really felt that I belonged in the Burg as a whole. I was the misfit. The girl who was more interested in jumping off roofs (because she just  _knew_ deep down that she could fly like Wonder Woman) than in playing house with her dolls.

Nobody in my family had understood me other than my Grandma Mazur. Well, and maybe my niece Alice when she came along. Alice had spent years insisting that she was a horse.

I'd tried to do what the Burg expected of me, other than when I went to college and got a business degree, and it had led to me marrying Dickie Orr. That had obviously gone terribly, and we'd had the loudest, least amicable, and perhaps most public divorce in the history of the Burg.

After that, I'd become a bounty hunter, but I'd tried to balance that out in the eyes of my mother and all of the Burg with Morelli. I think I'd never been able to commit to him, and allowed myself my occasional dalliances with Ranger to assure that I didn't, because deep down I knew it was the same thing over again. I was trying to force myself to fit into a mold, but no matter how hard I tried, I never would.

But standing there, looking into Steve's eyes, I knew. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that Steve saw  _me_. And all those things that my mother and the Burg had hated in me and tried to quash, Steve liked. My independence. My ability to just go with the flow. My drive.

My tenacity.

He'd already told me he found that fire inside of me attractive, and I was certain he was ready to help me to finally embrace it.

With that newfound understanding of self and emotional comfort with Steve, the exhaustion came back too. I relaxed forward a little more into Steve, feeling Bucky shift behind me to accommodate the movement.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up in a really big bed in a large room with an absolutely gorgeous view of New York City. I was pretty damn high up, so I thought I had an idea of where I was. Still I rolled over into the pillow I wasn't using and took a big sniff.

Steve.

I was almost certain I was in Steve's bed, and it was too bad he wasn't there with me. I snuggled back in thinking maybe if I stayed long enough, he'd show up.

Minutes later, I heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps, which were probably over pronounced to keep from scaring me.

I kept my eyes closed, until they shot open when I heard, "Babe?"

I yelped and shot upright in the bed.

"Ranger?!" I asked.

I looked down, grateful to see that I was wearing clothes… somehow… and rushed to push myself to sitting.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"

"As fun as it would be to let you think I was capable of this level of breaking and entering, given the situation I'll tell you that Captain Rogers let me in," he told me.

That was practically a full-blown speech from Ranger.

"That makes sense," I told him.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a few beats.

At that, I gave him a wan smile.

"For the moment," I told him. Then I decided I didn't really want to get into all of the rest of it until I knew if Tony and Bruce had learned anything, so I evaded further questions with, "I expected you to be on the rescue team. I mean, it was you I called, after all."

"Why did you call me?" Ranger asked.

"I have your number memorized," I admitted. Then I added, "and I thought we were friends— regardless of whatever else is happening between us."

"I thought nothing was happening between us," he answered.

I blew out a breath, "It's not. But honestly, I thought you'd be mad at me for it."

"Babe," Ranger simply said. But I wasn't going to bail him out. I really didn't want to rely on my attempts to read his mind for this conversation. Sure, I'd gotten better at doing so, but I couldn't pick up on this level of complexity. "We are still friends. You are my best friend, and I understand and respect your decision. I understand why you made it. You are right. I can't give you what you want, and it's time for me to back away so you can find it."

I looked down as tears sprang to my eyes, not wanting Ranger to see them. I wasn't even sure why I was crying. I was still tired. Maybe that was part of it. Well, and I was glad to have him as a friend. But I wasn't sad or mourning the relationship that would never exist between us. Rather, I was at peace and grateful to put that chapter of my life behind me.

"I'm your best friend," I finally teased him.

"Babe," he replied.

He was right. I already knew that.

"So how did you get here?" I asked. Then I clarified, "to the Tower?"

"They brought me with them on the jet when they came back to run the search for you after you went missing," Ranger explained.

"And so then why weren't you there to get me?" I was harping on the point, but it really surprised me. Ranger mumbled something I couldn't hear, so I pushed, "what was that?"

"Black Widow wouldn't let me," Ranger said in a tone that almost sounded like he was pouting. "They took my phone and left me in the Tower. JARVIS told me when they had you safely in the jet."

My eyes went wide, and I mulled the information over in my mind. Then I concluded, "she's pissed that you kissed me in front of Steve on Valentine's Day."

"She does seem very invested in his love life," Ranger readily agreed. "You might want to watch out for that."

"She means well," I reasoned. "And I think she might like me?"

Ranger's lips quirked into an almost smile as he asserted, "it's almost impossible not to."

Before we could talk any longer, there was a quick, perfunctory knock on the door.

When it opened, Steve walked in, and said, "Sorry to interrupt."

"We're good," Ranger told him, pushing off of the wall he'd been leaning against and leaving the room.

I collapsed back on the bed in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Steve came over and flopped diagonally across so that he was propped up on his elbows looking down at me.

I couldn't help it, my grin widened, then somehow got even bigger when he returned the smile.

"Hi," he said pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Thank you for putting me in clothes," I told him. "That conversation would have been way too awkward if I was naked."

"Sweetheart," Steve said. "I'm an understanding guy, and like I told you, I know we're not exclusive yet or anything. But even I draw the line somewhere, and it would definitely be sending your… Ranger… into my bedroom with you naked."

I laughed a little, then sobered up. "We could be," I said.

"Be what?" Steve had gone perfectly still as he looked down at me, so I was pretty sure he knew exactly what I meant. But I didn't blame him for asking me to actually say the words.

"Be exclusive," I answered. "You know. If you want."

It completely terrified me to put myself out there like that, but not in the way I would have expected before I met Steve. Before the idea of actually verbally agreeing to a serious, exclusive relationship with someone would have terrified me because of the commitment.

That was one of the reasons that Morelli had been able to string me along for so long, and it probably stemmed from the fact that part of me knew we weren't right for each other.

With Steve it was purely fear of rejection. I wanted it so bad, and I knew that with crystal clarity. But it wasn't just up to me, and I wouldn't blame Steve if he said no. After all, he was Captain America and I was basically Calamity Jane.

Steve shifted his weight so he was leaning on just one arm, and with the one he freed, his right, he reached up and smoothed between my brow, which must have furrowed as I awaited his response.

"There's nothing I want more," he reassured me. "But—"

Oh God. It was awful. There was a "but." He really was going to reject me.

Steve growled and I wasn't sure if I had accidentally spoken aloud or if he'd just read my expression and guessed at my thoughts. Either way he interrupted them with a passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, he studied me carefully and said, "I do want it. I just want to make sure YOU are certain. You aren't beholden to me in any way because we came and got you— hell, you rescued yourself anyway. And we're going to help you with whatever is going on as the result of the experimentation whether or not you're my girl. You don't have to be  _with_  me to be here, under the Avengers' protection."

"That's very…" I trailed off, not wanting to offend him or have him think I was making fun of him. Eventually I settled on, "noble of you. But I was sure  _before_  I got kidnapped. I was going to tell you on our date."

"It's not noble, it's just the right thing to do," he explained to me. "But I'm glad. Then I happily accept. I was going to ask you that night, if I could gather the courage to do so."

"Steve, how could you possibly have thought I would say no?"

He took my hand and pressed it to his chest, and then he said, "I've been this person for so much less of my life than I was that scrawny little guy. I didn't see how I could possibly be so lucky as to find you and have you welcome my advances."

"You still are that guy," I insisted. "It's why you would have helped me, even if I didn't want so desperately to be your girlfriend."

"Desperately, huh?" Steve asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I just shook my head as I laughed at his antics. Then I used the hand still on his chest to grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him to me for a slow, deep kiss full of promises and hope.

After a couple minutes, I felt myself start to shift and push up into Steve aggressively. In return, he groaned and ran his free hand down my left side, over my hip, and to my thigh. His big warm hand grabbed onto my thigh and pulled it up along his side. The move created a space for him to sink more completely into me and press himself down into me with a tantalizing roll of his hips.

He pulled away from me with a sigh a few seconds later, and regretfully told me, "as much fun as that would be, I came in here to get you to come out and eat. And if we don't leave soon, Natasha will come in after us."

"Can and have," the redhead's voice said from behind Steve, who didn't react other than an eye roll and a shake of his head.

"Just give us a minute," he called back, not breaking eye contact with me.

"One minute," Natasha said in a voice that let us know we would not enjoy the consequences of failing to heed her orders.

Personally, I didn't hear her leave or the door click shut, but Steve must have because he relaxed a little into me once more. I hadn't even felt him go on alert, but he must have done so when he realized Natasha was in the room.

"Can't we just stay here?" I whined at him. "I just want to lay here with you."

Before Steve could answer, my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl and I knew what his answer would be.

He gave me one additional short peck on the lips then shoved himself back and off the bed. When he was standing full height, he wiggled his fingers at me with a, "come on. Food first. We can come back here later if you want."

"It's just mean to make a lady sleep in a bed that smells all deliciously like you and then not put out," I informed him.

My stomach growled again, and Steve ignored my comment as we walked out his bedroom door in favor of asking, "did they feed you at all?"

"Not that I remember," I answered. "I wouldn't have eaten it if they had. I felt so sick, and they could have drugged it!"

Bucky was sitting on a couch in a big open living room at the end of the hall we'd walked down from Steve's bedroom, and he looked at me blandly as he said, "Steph. They had already drugged you."

"Well yeah, but what if it had been something  _bad_?" At his blank stare, I clarified, "like a roofie."

"Steph, you were already unconscious why would they need—" Bucky's eyes flicked over my shoulder, I assumed to have a silent conversation with Steve because he didn't finish the thought.

And that was fine with me, I wanted to live in Denial Land. I didn't need to start thinking about things they might have done to me while I was unconscious without me knowing… either time I'd been kidnapped.

Steve's hand let go of mine in order to slide around my hip and pull me close to him. Then he herded me over to a kitchen where Natasha was stirring a giant pot of something.

"I hope chicken and dumpling soup is okay, Steph," she greeted me.

My stomach answered for me with a huge growl, but I laughed and reassured her, "it smells fantastic."

A timer went off and Steve let go of me to walk into the kitchen, around Natasha, and over to the oven. From there he pulled out freshly baked bread that was perfectly golden.

"Steve made that from scratch," Natasha informed me.

"Very carefully supervised," Steve admitted.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked incredulously, worried that the answer was going to be a day or something.

"It's a quick rise bread," Natasha explained at the same time Steve told me it had only been a few hours.

The kitchen had a large breakfast bar that opened it out into the living space, and I was glad to see Bucky set four places out on it. This would be just a casual meal, not some big production, despite the large quantity of soup.

"Go slowly," Steve cautioned once I was sitting down with my bowl in front of me along with a hunk of bread and a coke. "You'll want to make sure your stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry you feel."

"Good call," I told him and willed my stomach to keep the food down in exchange for a slower pace. After a few minutes of eating in contemplative silence I said, "I figured the whole team would be here. Do they all live here?"

"This is my private apartment," Steve said, chuckling when I went bug eyed and looked around at the massive amount of space. "I know, believe me. You should have seen the place I lived before the war."

"During the Great Depression," Natasha commented blandly.

"So this is much larger and more lavish than anything I could have possibly imagined," Steve added.

"We passed doors on the way out here from your bedroom, I guess I just assumed that those were different teammates rooms, like fancy dorms or something."

"I have guest rooms with private bathrooms, a study, an art studio, and two more bathrooms in addition to my own room which, as you saw, is a suite," Steve was shaking his head looking for all the world as though he still didn't believe it. "Sam has been staying in one of the guest rooms. I have one set aside for Bucky, and there's another for you if you'd like."

"You can also stay on my floor if you'd like," Natasha offered.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked.

"We'd like you to stay at least a couple days," Steve told me. "Until Bruce and Tony feel like you're relatively stable or have a system in place for stabilizing you. Then it's up to you. You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like."

"I think you should go back as soon as you're able," Bucky said, getting a frown from Steve for it. "Don't look at me like that punk. She still has stalkers after her, and you aren't going to be able to resolve that with her locked away here. They'll just be out there. Waiting. Best to get her back before long so that nobody questions her absence too much. Have Stark upgrade her security, and have her go about her business. See who or what comes out of the woodwork. Once that is handled, then she can come back for good."

"For good?" I squeaked.

Bucky looked at me like I was an idiot, but Steve rushed to reassure me. "Don't listen to him, he's nothing but a big jerk. We'll talk about it when we get there, but he does have a good point. It may be best to get you back to Trenton soon."

"Are you going to come with me?" I asked. Then I rushed to reassure him, "I mean, I understand if you have something better to do…"

"Things are pretty quiet at the moment," Steve asserted. "And we'll need to do some monitoring of Sojourn Enterprises. Seems to me I can do that from Trenton for the time being."

"Eat your soup," Natasha cut in. "It's getting cold. We'll figure this all out later, once we know what Tony and Bruce have found."


	19. Chapter 19

"I come bearing gifts!"

I startled in my seat as I heard a door burst open and an unknown woman's voice call out through Steve's apartment.

We'd been eating in companionable silence with Bucky and Natasha for the most part, and I had slowed down, feeling tiredness creep into my body once more. But the loud noise brought me back to myself almost violently.

"It's okay," Steve soothed me quickly. "It's just Darcy."

"Just Darcy?" The woman in question joked as she stepped into view holding a big box that Bucky immediately rose to take from her. "That hurts, Cap."

"She nearly jumped out of her skin with that entrance you made," Natasha gently rebuked. "She's been through some things."

The woman- Darcy, I guessed- looked a little guilty at that, but she turned to me with a big smile.

"You must be Steph," she said kindly as she held out a hand to me.

Taking hers in mine, I said, "and you must be Darcy."

"Have you been telling your lady friend about me, Cap?" Darcy teased. "I heard you were terrible with women, but I thought you at least knew better than to talk about other women to them. Not that I'm an _other_ woman. Just you know, a woman. Cap and I never did the deed or anything-"

"Darce," Natasha cut in.

I smiled because it was genuinely fun to watch someone else seem to struggle with accidentally over sharing. I let her off the hook though clarifying, "no. Only when you came in just now."

"Not even a mention?" Darcy whined.

Steve laughed, and clarified, "I remember telling a story or two, but I guess I didn't use your name."

I studied her with pursed lips and eventually hazarded a guess, "are you the one who tased Thor?"

"Yes I did," her chest puffed up in pride as she confirmed. "How did you know if he didn't say my name?"

"He told me the story when I was training with Natasha one day. Honestly, he might have said your name and I forgot. There's been a lot going on, and I was probably very tired and worried about being in over my head at the time. But it was a story about how sometimes you didn't have to be bigger or a better fighter- you just need the element of surprise."

"I am definitely not bigger or a better fighter than Thor," Darcy confirmed with a nod. Then she snorted out a laugh as she added, "and I think he was _quite_ surprised."

"So whatcha got there, Darcy?" Steve asked, bringing us all back on topic.

"Tony asked me to bring some things for Steph, including a message," Darcy responded.

She went over to the table where Bucky had set the box across from the breakfast bar, and I turned in my seat curiously to watch as she unloaded it.

"Stark phone, which is set up with your old number- he wanted me to let you know that you have half a million voicemails, and he was able to move them over to this new phone for you," Darcy started. "I don't think he meant that literally, though. Because while a phone Tony Stark made probably could hold that many messages, I doubt your old one could."

"Ugh," I let out. "That would be the Burg gossips wanting to try to get the scoop as well as my mother calling to tell me how disappointed she is in me and why can't she have a normal daughter? Why can't I be more like my sister? Why can't I be like whichever of her friends or neighbors' daughter just got engaged or married or had a baby or whatever she's on about today."

"Steph, take a deep breath," Steve's voice cut through my rant.

"Oh damn, am I naked again?" I squished up my eyes so I couldn't see.

"Nope," Darcy told me. "Just smoking. But that does explain these!"

She pulled some clothes out of the box as she said that.

"Pepper told me to apologize to you on her behalf," Darcy informed me. "She knows that they're ugly, but it was the best she could do on such short notice. She has people working on it though."

They looked like perfectly functional clothes to me, and I didn't know what the issue was, so I said as much.

"They're not pretty," Natasha told me. When everyone looked at her, Natasha shrugged. "Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Enterprises, knows the value of presenting a particular image of yourself. She likes to look strong and beautiful not for anyone other than for herself and the confidence and power it gives her. And she wants for Steph to have clothes that make her feel good about herself, in general, but also while she deals with what's coming."

"Did you talk to her…" Darcy asked. "Why didn't they just give you the stuff?"

"I have not spoken to Pepper since before I left for Trenton," Natasha said. "I know her. I'm good at reading people and their motivations."

"Story checks out," Darcy agreed enthusiastically. "Nat is like the ultimate spy."

Bucky huffed out an offended breath, and I looked over to see a small smile crooking up the corner of his mouth.

"The clothes look great to me," I insisted, feeling a little awkward all of the sudden. "I'm not really a 'fashion' person. I'm more of a ripped jeans and clearance sales person."

Natasha and Darcy both hummed noncommittally, and I was a little worried that they were going to gang up on me.

"Well, if you're going to be Captain America's lady friend—" Darcy started.

"Girlfriend," Steve interrupted. "She's my girlfriend not some kind of dalliance!"

"No offense intended," Darcy told him. "I just didn't want to put labels on if they hadn't been discussed and make it awkward. Natasha said you were just getting to know each other and hadn't committed to being in a relationship."

"They hadn't when we spoke last," Natasha informed her. "I walked in on that conversation earlier."

"Mmmm," Darcy licked her lips. "Like _walked in_ on? Because congrats to you both, as I bet that is an awesome sight to behold."

"Darcy," Steve warned, his voice taking on a dark tone that I found oddly… stirring.

"Sadly no," Natasha spoke over Steve. "But I'm sure they'll get around to that soon enough."

Bucky grumbled something that made Steve turn bright red but nobody else seemed to actually hear, and thankfully the conversation moved on.

I'd finished all the soup I thought I could stomach for the moment, so I rose and picked up my dishes. Steve reached out and placed a hand gently over mine and gestured over to Darcy.

With a sigh, I left the dishes and walked over to see what else was in the box.

When I got there, Darcy surprised me once again by pulling me into a hug.

"HYDRA can suck a big old bag of dicks," Darcy insisted. "And your mom doesn't sound like she knows what the fuck she's talking about."

"Thanks," I whispered as she pulled away.

"Now we also have a tablet for you, some shoes, a stun gun of which I am seriously jealous, and a watch with a panic button on it," Darcy listed off.

"Will the watch track me at all times?" I asked uneasily.

"We will only track it if you push the alert button or have been missing for more than a day without checking in," Natasha informed me seriously.

I chewed my lip a little, but in the end it seemed like a good idea even if they were going to track me. After all, I seemed to be a bit of a hot commodity with bad guys for the moment. Again.

I blew out a dramatic sigh, and everyone paused what they were doing and looked at me.

"I'm a disaster," I said. "Any objective person would look at my current situation and say, 'that woman? She's a fucking disaster.' And they'd be right."

Everyone started speaking at once, so I couldn't really follow any one voice until Steve came up behind me and pulled my back into his front. He leaned down until his mouth was right next to my ear, and he whispered, "you are a treasure."

I turned my head to look at him, and seeing the sincerity in his eyes slowly relaxed and melted into him, allowing a small smile to cross my face.

Darcy snapped her fingers to get my attention back to her, and said, "okay. You two can be mushy later."

She pulled what looked like a metal briefcase out of the box, and I supposed I hadn't noticed it before because she had everything else piled on top of it. Natasha moved closer and watched carefully as Darcy walked me through a set of biometric scans that JARVIS would be able to use to verify my identity anytime he was up close and personal. Apparently he was also observing and making record of my gait and mannerisms to use in more broad cases where I wasn't at a retinal, palm, or finger scanner.

It all seemed very spy movie intense, but then again, I guessed Avengers Tower of all places that level of security made sense. Especially after, from what I understood, they'd all be recently burned rather badly by finding HYDRA rats in their midst. Even Stark and those not directly involved with SHIELD at the time.

Once the scans finished and a confirmation screen came up, Natasha swiped the briefcase before Darcy could close it up and went over to the breakfast bar. I watched from where I was, grateful for the feet between us as she began furiously typing on a keyboard that popped out of the side of the briefcase all while arguing viciously with Bucky.

"Are they speaking…" I trailed off at the end of the question because I was not a language person, and I really had no guess. I knew it wasn't Italian, but that was about all I knew.

"Russian," Steve said tersely. I looked back up at him, concerned as he'd stiffened up considerably behind me— and not in the good way.

"Bucky speaks Russian?" I asked surprised. As far as I'd known, they had both grown up in Brooklyn, and Bucky had been captured by the Germans/HYDRA. So I could see English and German, but where had the Russian come from? There hadn't been anything in the SHIELD file dump.

I looked at Darcy with questions in my mind, and she shook her head quickly and definitively telling me in no uncertain terms that I should NOT ask. What she said was, "you don't think Natasha had a go at at least a little bit of that data before she released it?"

I turned back to where Black Widow and Winter Soldier had been arguing— because there was no doubt in my mind that it had been those two and not Natasha and Bucky at the time— and raised my brow as I saw how much Natasha seemed to be comforting him as she guided him through the same scans as I had done.

A person who had never met either before may not have seen it as that, but it was. She'd moved closer, her arm was on the back of the chair just close enough to be brushing his shoulder, and I thought I could hear her practically crooning at him ever so quietly.

I looked back at Steve, and I whispered, fearful of either party hearing me, "are they…?"

Steve watched a moment longer, puzzled look on his face before he turned back to me. He brought one of his hands up to gently tilt my face so I was looking at him instead of at the… pair? Couple? It seemed like he was trying to get me to give them privacy, and I let him as I looked up at him with a raised brow.

He relaxed a little as he shrugged his shoulders, and he finally said, "I don't know. Neither of them said anything remotely like that to me." He reached a hand up and ran it through his hair as he thought before simply admitting, "it would explain a few things though. Like how Natasha knew so much about him and insisted that the Winter Soldier wasn't just the ghost story everyone else believed him to be. Other than because he shot her. And how she got her hands on those files so quickly…"

He trailed off, and was clearly trying to figure more out, so I left him to it and turned back to Darcy. She was very pointedly not looking in the direction of the breakfast bar, and instead looked at everything that had been unpacked from her box.

"I think that's everything," Darcy said. "Tell JARVIS to let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"Happy to help." Darcy picked up her box and then nodded in the direction of Natasha and Bucky without actually looking over as she added, "I don't want to know. I don't need to know. I value my life too much. Just let Mother Russia over there know that Tony is going to want that biometric set-up back when she's done with it. Oh! And speaking of. Tony and Bruce said that they'll catch up with you tomorrow. They're buried in data in science land, and they won't have results for you before then."

And with that, Darcy breezed out just as quickly as she had come in.

Clearly still wanting to give Bucky and Natasha some space, Steve gathered up the things that Darcy had left and guided me down a hallway on the opposite end of the living space than we'd come from his bedroom. When we entered another bedroom, I realized it was the guest room he'd mentioned before.

"Help yourself to a shower or a bath if you'd like, relax a bit, and I'll be in the living room whenever you're ready. You can keep those clothes or change into the stuff Pepper sent. Whichever you'd prefer," he told me.

He bent down and pressed some kisses to my lips that were gentle and definitely didn't intend to build to anything. But they did still convey a lot of emotion.

When he pulled back I asked, "what're we going to do for the day?"

"Today?" He clarified. "Just relax. Not much to do until Tony and Bruce have results for us, and I think we could use it."

At that he walked out, and I took a few seconds to look around before doing as he suggested and taking a shower. As I stepped into the bathroom, the mirror caught my eye, and I noticed that Steve had been at it again, presumably while I'd napped earlier.

On the mirror was simply written, "Hello, Gorgeous."

For some reason that made me blush, so I dove into the shower and set about doing my business.

When I exited, I picked up my discarded clothes and walked out to the dresser where I'd left the new garments Darcy had dropped off. I pulled up short when I saw that Steve had come back into the room and decorated the mirror there as well. Clearly he'd been inspired by what I had said about my mother because on this one we're the words, "You are wanted. You are ENOUGH."

I eyed the two piles of clothing while trying to decide what to wear, and in the end, I decided in addition to the clean undergarments, I would wear the pair of new yoga pants. The pants I'd been wearing before were, I suspected, actually Steve's and they really didn't fit well at all— in particular they were miles too long.

The material of the pants was surprisingly scratchy given the fact that they looked like regular stretchy yoga pants, but I didn't think much of it. That did, however, seal my decision to don the borrowed shirt once more, rather than wearing one of the newly provided ones. Something about putting it on just felt like being wrapped up in Steve's arms.

I felt a little awkward leaving the room, knowing that it wasn't just Steve's space I was in, but rather Sam's and now Bucky's as well. Still I gathered up my courage and opened the door then walked down the hallway, hearing a dull noise grow steadily louder as I did.

When I reached the end of the hallway and caught sight of the living room, I paused a little at how decidedly _normal_ the scene before me looked. Steve was sitting on one of the couches, legs stretched out in front of him on an ottoman. Sam was at the far end of the couch, with plenty of space between them, and Clint was sprawled sideways across one of the armchairs, locked in some sort of debate with Sam. On the TV in front of them was basketball, though nobody seemed to be paying it much attention at all.

Steve twisted, eyes instantly finding mine and a smile jumped to his lips. I wondered if he'd used his super hearing to listen to me walk down the hall and sought to reassure me of my welcome when I paused. Of course, it was also possible that he just was used to being able to tell when someone was watching him using whatever sixth sense it was that Ranger, and I felt certain at least Bucky, Natasha, and Clint, had honed over the years.

Whatever the reason he looked back in the first place, Steve didn't hesitate before stretching an arm out and gesturing me forward. The inherent welcome in the movement made me smile and pushed me into motion once more, this time eager rather than hesitant to close the gap between us.

I walked around to the front of the couch and let Steve pull me down to settle next to him with my feet tucked up under me and off to the side opposite him.

"You're a basketball fan?" I asked curiously. We'd never gotten around to talking about sports before.

"I don't mind it, but I'm more of a baseball guy myself," he told me.

"Which team?" I prompted.

"The Dodgers," he responded. "Even if they moved, they're still my team."

Well, Steve was nothing if not loyal.

"What about you?" Steve asked me in return.

"I'll watch whatever sport," I said. "I don't follow too closely. Usually I cheer for a local team."

I ended with a small shrug and let my focus move toward the TV. Along the way, I caught sight of a heavy looking book on the coffee table.

Intrigued, I leaned forward and glanced at Steve for permission before grabbing it. He tensed up ever so slightly, but nevertheless nodded his head in agreement.

I thought I heard a brief pause in the other men's conversation, but it picked back up so quickly that I couldn't say for sure. I shifted a little so I was snuggled into Steve even more, and he draped his arm across my shoulder. With the way my legs were angled, the book ended up perched half on my lap and half on Steve's as I opened it.

I sucked in a breath when I saw a black and white picture of a good looking couple on the first page— Steve had told me about his father dying before he was born and his mother dying when he was just 18. I could see enough of him in both people on the page to realize they were his parents.

Reaching my hand up, I linked my fingers through the hand of the arm Steve had strewn across my shoulders and gave it a squeeze.

"She was beautiful," I told Steve. "And your dad looks like a good man."

It was true, but they also looked painfully young, especially since he was wearing what appeared to be a military dress uniform.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," Bucky whispered from behind me. And I think I would have jumped clear out of my skin if Steve hadn't tightened his grip.

"That's right," Steve tried to look casual as he turned to speak to Bucky.

"And your dad died in the 107th. You wanted to join it when you tried to enlist, but I knew they weren't going to take you so I requested it," Bucky slowly added, just as quietly as he'd previously spoken.

The range of emotions that passed over Steve's face was vast and heartbreaking, but when he cleared, he said, "took all the stupid with you."

Bucky actually laughed outright at that, spell broken, and replied, "You're a punk."

"Jerk," Steve tossed back easily.

The men shared a nod, each with their own small smile on their face, and Bucky walked around to sit on the couch. He wasn't touching me, but he was definitely in my personal space. He was Steve's Bucky though, and he'd never been anything other than kind and respectful to me, so I didn't really mind.

Bucky reached over slowly, giving me enough time to protest if I wanted and snagged the corner of the book with his fingers. When I said nothing, instead shifting so I was completely upright, Bucky tugged it until it was squarely in my lap.

"Oh my God," I said on a gasp when Bucky turned the page. "Is that you?!"

My eyes had turned all wide as I took in the little boy on the page in front of me, and when I turned my gaze to Steve, he looked almost pained.

"Yeah," He admitted.

"You were adorable," I said and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I was fourteen," he told me.

"George Washington High School in Brooklyn," Bucky interjected. "I met him when two bullies were trying to steal his money and he wouldn't give it up. Never did know when to quit."

I heard a snorted laugh from the side of the room I'd thought was empty, and I saw that Natasha had sat herself down on the second couch perpendicular to ours. I had no idea when she'd arrived, but I shot her a questioning look.

Natasha pitched her voice low and said, "I could do this all day," in what I felt certain was an imitation of Steve.

"I hate bullies!" Sam piped up, his tone taking on an overly… patriotic sound.

I glanced at Steve, and the way he rolled his eyes in response made me dissolve into a fit of giggles.

By the time I settled down, I realized that Bucky had closed the book. I looked over at him in question, and he said, "it's a lot at once to see those. Would you mind if we finished later?"

I offered him a kind smile and picked up the book. I leaned forward to place it on the table once more, and when I leaned back, I amicably bumped his shoulder with mine.

"No problem," I reassured him. "But you have to promise to go through them with me when you're ready, and you have to tell me all the good stories!"

"He'll probably make up half of them," Steve joked, and I thought maybe he was trying to give Bucky an out or maybe just a moment to collect himself.

Instead Bucky just teased, "now why would I do that when there are so many true ones that will suffice." Then he looked at me, and he held out his hand offering me a shake to seal the deal.

Once I released Bucky's grip, Steve pulled me back into his side, and I allowed myself to burrow in and focus on the TV again. Steve's arm started gently stroking up and down my arm, and I slowly lost my ability to concentrate and felt my eyes start to drift shut as the exhaustion began to overtake me once again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have reached out and checked up on me. Baby is still snug and well on the inside, but we've had to go to lots of monitoring for high risk stuff which is extra time consuming and stressful, especially when also the primary caregiver for a toddler! Add in some death and illness in my family and well, it's been a rough couple months. ANYWAY, happy holidays to all, and happy almost new year. This story is NOT abandoned, just being written and updated very, very slowly at this point. Finally... this chapter is a little bit short, but yay for smut

In my dreams I found myself suddenly back in the lab in Russia. This time, when I fell out of the drop ceiling, the guard immediately called for backup. And when I desperately slashed out at him when he approached, he kicked my hand and my weapon away. He followed it up with a blow to my head that sent me thudding into the wall, then he reached down and pulled me up by my hair, laughing when I began to scream.

I was shocked back to waking in an instant, sputtering and trying to figure out what was going on as the lights in my room came on, and I realized I was being sprayed with… something… from all angles, my room quickly coated in some sort of foam.

The door burst inwards and I looked over to see Steve standing in the doorway, quickly assessing the situation.

"Steph, are you awake?" He asked first, and when I nodded he said, "are you okay?"

I looked down at myself and did a quick mental evaluation.

"I'm embarrassed," I began. "And I don't think I'm wearing a shirt anymore, but these pants that Pepper sent are still intact."

"They are made of a material that adapts to your body's needs almost like a second skin," JARVIS provided through a speaker somewhere that I hadn't realized existed, but I realized that I really should have figured he was everywhere in the Avengers spaces.

"I think it's the same stuff Tony has been using to try to make Bruce pants," Steve said. "So far he can make them expand with Bruce so that the Hulk is covered, but he can't get them to shrink back down."

"Okay," I said slowly. "I don't. I can't even. I don't know what to do with that information right now, so I'm just going to go right past it."

"Are you hurt?" Steve asked, seemingly willing to move on from the issue of clothed vs. naked Hulk as well.

"No," I said slowly. "I'm just a little cold."

Steve nodded his head and turned around, disappearing momentarily from the doorway. When he returned he had a large, ugly blanket that I eyed suspiciously.

"Is that a fire blanket?" I accused.

"Just in case," he teased. Then his expression turned serious as I walked to the doorway and he wrapped the blanket around me. When I reached a hand up from inside to hold the blanket together around me, Steve slid his arm down around my waist.

"Nightmare," I told him.

"Hmmm," Steve said. "I was worried about that earlier, but you seemed to be sleeping so peacefully on the couch that I thought you'd be okay. I hoped that you were too tired to dream tonight."

"You make me feel safe," I offered by way of explanation.

Left unspoken was that at some point after he'd presumably moved me to the guest bedroom for the night, my subconscious had no longer felt safe, and that was when the nightmares struck.

Steve casually walked me down the hallway through his living rooms and down the other hallway to his bedroom. Opening the door, he guided me inside and over to his bathroom. Once there, he opened a door to a spacious shower and turned on the knobs, fiddling with them until the room started to fill with steam. It was in that moment I realized that he was wearing sweatpants loose and low around his hips and nothing over the top.

I kicked myself for not noticing the gorgeous view earlier, but then I decided it was probably reasonable that I had been distracted by almost burning down Avengers Tower and everybody in it.

When he started to pull back from the shower and got ready to turn around, and I could only assume leave the room, I felt a rush takeover me. Dropping my blanket, I stepped forward and pressed my naked chest into his back.

Steve froze, and I whispered, "stay?"

Steve whipped around, eyes searching mine and desperately looking for something.

"Are you sure?" He finally asked. "I don't want our first time to be because you're scared and chasing away nightmares."

"Steve," I urgently pulled his body into mine and insisted, "it's not because of that. I'm not scared. I wasn't scared as soon as I woke up, and the nightmares were gone the moment I saw you. This is… I don't know how to explain it…"

"Please, Steph. Try," he insisted. "I need to know."

"I wanted you before I was kidnapped, but I was afraid to admit it. All that the past couple days did was give me the opportunity to see it clearly. See you clearly. See us clearly. I know what I want, Steve, and that's you. And if you hadn't lulled me to sleep with your snuggliness on that couch, we'd have already done this," I gestured between the two of us.

Steve laughed and said, "lulled you to sleep? I did no such thing!"

"Yes you did!" I insisted. "With the whole being warm and comfortable and…" I finished with just a dreamy sigh.

Steve's grin grew positively sinful and his arms banded around me confidently. Still his tone started out light as he teased, "you're one to talk about being warm." Then he moved his hands lower to get underneath my ass and pull me up his body for a deep kiss.

When he pulled back, all joking was gone and his voice was pitched lower as he turned and shoved me up against the wall on the outside of the shower and said, "I'm going to strip you out of the rest of those clothes. Then I'm going to scrub whatever this crap is off your body," his lips drifted back to my ear but close that I could feel his breath on my skin as he continued. "Then I'm going to show you how beautiful you are. And when I'm done, if you still want to, I'm going to carry you out to my bed and I'm going to make love to you so thoroughly that you won't be able to think of anything other than me an' you."

"S-Steve," I breathed out. " _Please_!"

He took that for the enthusiastic consent it was, and his lips pressed urgently to mine. He set me down just long enough to pull off my pants. Somehow he managed to lift me out of the tangle of clothing at my feet at the same time he shoved his own to the floor, and seconds later he had us both in the shower.

Water rushed down on us from above like rain, and I was pretty sure it mixed with the foam to make me exceptionally slippery, but Steve held me firmly and securely in his arms never once giving me reason to think he might drop me.

We finally broke apart and Steve took a step back, eyes drifting down my body and drinking the sight of it in, much as I knew mine were doing to his body.

He reached out an arm, and I looked over almost missing the fact that the lower of two built in shelves was filled with all my preferred brands of toiletries. I had barely processed that info when he came at me with shampoo, massaging it into my head so perfectly that my neck went limp and my head dropped back as I groaned.

Steve stopped long enough to quickly spread some of the suds along my neck and shoulders to clean them off. Then his hands went back to my hair and he took a couple of steps into me until I retreated into the wall behind me. When my head sank back this time, I rested the top of it against the wall while his hands cupped the rest, resuming the massage as his lips took mine in a wild kiss before slid down to wreak havoc on my neck.

I felt my body revving up with arousal like I'd never experienced before, and he hadn't even gone below the collar.

Not that I had a collar at that moment.

When his mouth let up, he steered me again, moving me then slowly tipping my head back to rinse out my hair thoroughly.

I heard myself whimper when I opened my eyes and saw him dumping body wash on a loofah then prowl toward me.

Without prompting, I moved out from under the water for the moment.

As soon as the loofah touched me, I shrieked with confused delight. Previously the coarseness of the sponge wasn't really something I paid heed to beyond having the impression that it made me feel softer and more polished than a bar of soap or a washcloth.

But as turned on as Steve already had me, the loofah ratcheted up the sensations in my body, and made my skin practically hum with anticipation.

Oh great. I would probably accidentally give myself an orgasm every time I tried to use a loofah after this.

Steve moved slowly, allowing water to wash over my skin when he finished each section of my body. Then his hands would move onto a new area, and his mouth would explore the cleaned region.

He alternated seemingly randomly between licks, nibbles, kisses, teeth scrapes, and sucking with his mouth on my skin— the whole time maintaining an unhurried pace.

The sensations pushed me higher and higher, but they never pushed me all the way to the brink. When he finally finished cleaning and worshipping my body, he watched for a moment as water ran down my body.

Then without warning, he dropped from the crouch he was in to his knees and lifted one leg up to over his shoulder before repeating with the other. His face dove in at the same time as he stood up and I keened loudly then arched my back and dug my hands into his hair. It only took a couple broad strokes of his tongue along my slit and up to my clit before my orgasm exploded.

Steve eased me back to myself with gentle kisses then carefully lowered me back down so my feet touched the ground. Once they did, however, he leaned his weight into me to support me and make sure I stayed upright even as he reached across for a bottle from the shelf. Moments later his mouth was on mine and his hands were in my hair once more.

Dimly I realized that he was massaging conditioner slowly and thoroughly into my hair. And by the time he was done and I'd gotten a final rinse, all I could focus on was how badly I needed Steve.

We'd already discussed safe sex and the fact that I had an IUD and Steve was incapable of carrying disease, so I drew Steve into me and said, "Steve, I need."

"What do you need?" He pushed. "Tell me."

"I need you inside me," I blurted out, never one to actually feel all that comfortable talking during sex. "Right now. I don't want the bed, I don't want anything other than you inside me right nooooowwww."

I ended in a howl as Steve took me at my word, lifting me again and pressing inside with one firm, steady drive.

He opened his mouth, presumably to ask if I was okay, but I cut him off urging, "move!"

To start he was simply rolling his hips forward and back, not moving in and out of me all that much as I adjusted to his size— and he was seriously the biggest man I'd been with. As my body relaxed, his movements got bigger and he dropped his mouth. His tongue licked into my mouth to tangle with mine then soon took up a similar rhythm to the rest of him as he thrust in and out.

I could tell he was holding back some, so when I ripped my mouth away to catch my breath, I panted out a desperate, "MORE."

When he pulled all the way out of me, I whined in protest. Instead of responding, he simply used his his hands to turn my hips so I spun around.

I braced my arms and arched my back to give him a better angle as he bent his knees to line up with me and thrust back in.

"Yes, Steve," I groaned out at the new angle. His thrusts were still short— a concession to the wet shower environment and not wanting us to slip— but the angle felt deeper and much more intense.

After several minutes, his mouth started teasing my right ear as he started whispering encouragements to me.

"Come on, Steph. You feel so good. Get there again, Sweetheart. I want to feel you all around me, squeezing me."

Just the thought of orgasming on his cock brought me most of the way there. I shifted my left arm across the wall in front of me and dropped my head forward a little more to rest on it, groaning again as this changed the angle just enough to have him pushing on my g-spot each inward stroke instead of just next to it as he had been before.

My right arm now free, I snaked my hand down to start rubbing circles on my clit. Instantly I started clenching up, chasing my release, and made Steve groan with animalistic satisfaction. His right hand slid from my hip to around my thigh to hoist my leg up and give my hand a little more space to maneuver.

From there it was just a few powerful thrusts of his hips into mine and a couple circles of my hand before I went flying over the cliff once more. Once the roaring in my head had cleared and I could think once more, I could feel Steve softening in me as the last few aftershocks ripples through.

"Wow," I moaned.

"Sorry, I'm not usually so fast," Steve rumbled into my ear, sounding regretful for some reason.

"Are you… apologizing?" I asked incredulously. "You have nothing to be sorry for. That was the best I've ever had, and if it weren't for your hands basically holding me up right now, I'd be a spineless pile of goo on the ground."

Steve pulled out of me with a satisfied noise then managed to twist me around so that he was holding me up facing him once more. He grabbed a washcloth from I didn't know where and made short work of cleaning us both up while he grinned at me.

"For the record, that was the best for me too," he informed me, dropping the cloth and shifting his grip as I allowed myself to relax into him all the way.

Somehow he got us out of the shower and dry enough to collapse onto the bed still holding me tight in his arms. He reached down to snag the comforter with one hand and pulled it up and over us both. I burrowed into him with a happy noise of agreement and felt myself drift back into a now peaceful sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

I awoke with no idea how long I slept— all I knew was that Steve was wrapped protectively around me, and I actually felt well rested. I was laying on my left side with Steve spooning me from behind— and I could feel his impressive morning wood firmly at my back.

I unconsciously rolled my hips back into him, and he groaned in response. His right hand that had been up by my chest, hugging me back into him loosened and slid down to my right hip.

"You weren't scared I was going to burn your dick off?" I asked before my brain filter came online.

I could feel as much as hear the laugh rumble out of his chest in response before Steve responded with a question of his own, "during the sex or while sleeping?"

His wandering hands were slowly shifting my position, making it clear what his intention was and giving me plenty of time to object. When I did no such thing, Steve dropped a kiss to my shoulder as he pushed into me from behind.

"Either," I sighed out, barely managing to keep a grasp on the conversation as my body started slowly reacting and buzzing at the feel of his slow, steady movements.

"Nah," he answered, voice low as his mouth slowly drifted up to play with my neck. "You seemed to like it too much for that."

I couldn't formulate a response to that in part because it was true and in part because my mind was turning to mush again. Instead I just let myself feel.

It was more making love than having sex for probably the first time in my life, and left me feeling not just physically satisfied but emotionally as well. We floated along in contentment for a good long while after our heart rates had settled before my stomach let itself be known.

I let out a nervous snort, but Steve just poked me until I got moving as he said, "thank goodness, I'm starving too."

"Bored with me already?" I teased with a playful pout.

Steve let out an incredulous bark of laughter and waved his hand at the bed. He told me, "obviously not, but I'll be more than happy to prove it to you again if you let me fuel up a little."

I giggled and at Steve's questioning look, I pointed to myself and said, "adding fuel to the fire."

Steve smiled at that, clearly amused, then pointed to the dresser where another of those special outfits was sitting out for me. I sighed, resigning myself to the scratchiness factor. When I noticed the nice lingerie on top, I raised a brow in question.

Steve shrugged and said, "that stuff doesn't feel the most comfortable, so I figured you could use a little something soft to go under it."

The underwear and bra were a matching set of some of the softest silk I'd ever touched. Still, I eyed it nervously and asked, "the underwear I was wearing last night?"

Steve's expression turned puzzled as he said, "you weren't wearing any when I undressed you."

"I wasn't?" I asked. "Because I was wearing some when I went to sleep. I don't go commando and definitely wouldn't have in those pants!"

"I'll have JARVIS make sure there's plenty around just in case," Steve told me, then he paused. "Would you like to pick it out yourself."

"Whoever picked this out can definitely pick for me," I reassured him as I slid into the soft set. Plus then I could live in denial a little longer about how much of a bill I must be building up. I was going to need to catch a lot of skips in order to be able to pay for everything I'd been provided and then burned up.

A couple minutes of wrestling with my hair, a comb, and a hair tie later, I was walking out of Steve's bedroom hand in hand with him.

This time as we made our way into the living room, I came across the scene I'd feared upon waking from my nap the day before. The common spaces were a buzz of activity from the entire Avengers team, minus Thor and plus Darcy and Pepper.

Conversation stopped when we walked in, and I steeled myself for whatever their reaction was going to be to Steve and I coming out of his bedroom together first thing in the morning. Tony opened his mouth, then glanced at Natasha and Bucky each in turn before shutting his mouth and taking a sip from his coffee cup instead. Gradually conversation picked back up, and Steve nodded in satisfaction before using a hand on the small of my back to guide me over to the breakfast bar.

A full buffet of breakfast food had been set up, and Steve murmured about in-house chefs being available around the clock. So I supposed that answered the question of where all the food had come from. I fixed myself a generous plate at Steve's insistence then went and found a seat- two had been left open side-by-side for us.

Steve set his plate down in the empty space to my right then wandered off, returning with orange juice and coffee for us both. He was frighteningly coordinated.

Everyone let us eat in peace for several minutes before Darcy was the one to finally break the silence with, "so I stopped by your room earlier, Steph."

I groaned and started to apologize, looking at Tony and Pepper with wide eyes.

Tony just waved it off wordlessly, and Pepper chose to quickly reassure me with, "we knew it was a possibility, And really this was the safest place to have an episode like that happen. The Avengers quarters have extra reinforcements and security measures built into them given the propensity for these types of things to happen in them." After a pause she added, "not to mention Tony's tendency for making people really mad at him. Did you know he once taunted a terrorist known for blowing things up then  _gave him our address_  in Malibu? On national TV?"

"Not this again," Tony whined. "It was one time."

"And it was just one example," Pepper insisted. "And I don't think it's going to stop being relevant any time soon."

Tony muttered to himself but shut his mouth once more with what could only be described as a pout.

"The damage isn't actually that bad," Darcy insisted. "JARVIS was on it quickly, and it's really just damage on the surface level. We'll pull up the carpet and replace it, buy new furniture, slap on some new paint, and that'll be it. Should be better in one or two days tops. Assuming you don't go all firebomb on it again."

Clint got up and walked around the table to deliver a solid punch on Steve's shoulder. Steve didn't even flinch just asked, "what was that for?"

"She saw your little mirror art," Clint told Steve with a scowl. "You're setting the bar way too high for the rest of us!"

"Don't blame Steve for his emotional maturity and ability to express himself," Darcy protested. "Just because you're more man child than anything else-"

She was cut off by everyone asking what she was talking about, which caused her to go into a full blown explanation with gushing color commentary that had Steve and I both blushing and Tony saying, "yeah, I'm going to have to side with Clint on this one. Plus, you've got to think ahead, Cap. If you start this high, how are you going to keep it up? Let alone top it?"

"I think I'll manage," Steve replied dryly.

"I'm sure you will," I happily agreed, dropping my right hand down to pat his thigh under the table.

Bruce clapped his hands and said, "ANYWAY, I think we have more important matters at hand."

Suddenly my mouth felt dry, and I lost all of my appetite. Steve dropped his left hand under the table and used it to pick my hand up off his leg and hold it, gently stroking it to soothe me.

"What did you find?" Steve asked calmly.

"We're going to need to run a lot more tests," Tony started. "But what we've managed to piece together so far is utterly fascinating."

"Do you know why they had to experiment on her twice?" Natasha asked urgently. "We need to know how likely they are to come after her for more experiments."

Bruce nodded his head and said, "That's actually one of the more interesting parts. See, we were able to get our hands on some blood samples that the hospital took while Steph was unconscious after the first kidnapping. From what we can tell, they actually injected her with a series of serums, for lack of a better term, that were priming her for future experimentation. Without their research notes, I can't tell if they chose Steph specifically for some genetic reason or if it was just convenient in some other way, but they started basically getting her cells ready for change during that first abduction."

"Is that why the first time didn't really hurt that much," I asked curiously.

Tony nodded in agreement, "yes, exactly. And we believe it's also why they kept you drugged. Part of that would have been to make you easier to deal with, but we believe that having your body closer to a coma-like state actually lowered your immune response and made it easier for them to begin altering you."

"Now the second time you were kidnapped," Bruce told me. "That's when they took advantage of the groundwork they had laid and injected you with the serum that would cause genetic and structural changes. You mentioned that it burned."

I nodded my head emphatically, "yes. It felt like I was on fire from the inside out, which I guess makes sense since I'm clearly able to catch things on fire now."

"Not necessarily," Bruce told me. "In all likelihood, they didn't know exactly how your DNA would morph. That is to say I don't believe they knew that it would be fire specifically. I think that the burning sensation you felt was actually just a result of your DNA being fundamentally altered. That means every cell in your body changed, including your nerves, for instance. THAT is likely what caused the burning sensation, and is probably also the cause for your prolonged exhaustion at this point."

Tony faked a cough that sounded a lot like, "that and boning Cap," but everyone just ignored it.

"Can you fix it?" I asked eagerly.

Bruce paused and rubbed his hands wearily over his face.

"We're going to run more tests and help you control it," Tony finally said into the profound silence.

"But…" I prompted, pit of dread taking over the place my stomach used to be.

"If we found the exact formulations they used and could exactly replicate the conditions and timing, we  _might_  be able to reverse the changes," Bruce finally admitted, "but I don't think it would work, and I think the odds of it killing you are better than the odds of it changing things back the way you were before. It's really a miracle you survived the first time. I wouldn't count on those odds happening twice."

"But since I survived the first time, wouldn't that make it more likely?" I pleaded.

"No," Tony said calmly. "We'll keep working on it Steph. And maybe we're wrong. But I really don't think so."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Steve reassured me. "You aren't broken. You don't need to be fixed."

"Steve, I almost burned down this tower and everyone in it."

"Pssshhh," Darcy protested. "Not hardly. JARVIS had the situation handled! And these guys are going to help you learn how to control it."

Conversation lapsed into silence for a few moments before I ventured a soft, "what exactly  _is_  it? What am I now?"

"Well, you're a mutate," Bruce explained. "That would be a human who wasn't born a mutant, but made one through synthetic alteration."

"In terms of what you can do," Tony rubbed his hands together eagerly, "we're not sure yet. Something involving heat or fire though, it seems."

"That's too much of a coincidence," Natasha added slowly, chewing on her thumbnail as she did. "She's the Bombshell Bounty Hunter of Trenton. Her exploits have been covered extensively in the local media, and they frequently involve fires or bombs. No way these people grab her, prime her, mutate her, and she just happens to get fire powers."

"There was that guy," Clint interjected. "On SHIELD's gifted registry. Chan Ho Yin. Developed pyrokinesis but nobody knew why. He was assigned a caseworker with SHIELD who recommended that he not use his powers in public, but he still used it to perform street magic on occasion last I heard before SHIELD fell. I think I remembered seeing him in your file dump, but I don't remember why—"

Clint was interrupted by Tony who snapped his fingers and said, "HYDRA had him. They experimented with him on one of their attempts with Extremis, as part of their Centipede Program to try to make more super soldiers. Almost all of their participants exploded and died eventually, but he lived. We looked into him after Pepper's run in with Extremis."

"He's the one whose blood they were taking to try to improve upon Extremis and stabilize it," Bruce murmured. "Were the Stern Brothers HYDRA?"

"Not from what I found while investigating Sojourn Enterprises," Bucky said. "Information on them seemed to indicate they were freelance. If they were already aware of and working on something similar when the HYDRA files came out though, they could have accessed the relevant information."

"Well it's not Extremis," Tony mused. "That is something we know for sure."

"And it appears to operate very differently," Bruce input. "On a cellular level alone, the evolution we're seeing is not at all similar."

"But they could have read about Cho, looked for someone who seemed to have a similar affinity for fire," Natasha thought out loud. "Read in that context, some of the articles could make it seem like Steph was controlling the fires somehow."

"I didn't burn down the funeral home!" I cried out, throwing my hands up in the air.

Steve put a soothing hand on my arm and murmured, "it's going to be okay, Steph. Nobody here thinks you did anything wrong."

"I was actually thinking the opposite," Natasha explained. "Some of those stories it seems like there's no way you should have made it out, but you did. Someone might think it was because you had some sort of enhancement."

"Well I don't!" I argued. Then I paused and conceded, "didn't. I guess I do now. But honestly most of those stories were exaggerations!"

"Maybe yes, maybe no," Clint moved his hands as though they were opposite sides of a scale. "I got sent to investigate a number of suspected enhanced when I was with SHIELD. Some were just ever so slight differences that the people themselves didn't even notice. Hell, at one point I'm pretty sure there was a debate about whether or not I should have been registered because of my eyesight. All that really matters in this case is perception. Nat's right. If they thought there was a chance you were gifted in some way involving fire, they could have chosen you specifically trying to replicate HYDRA's apparent success with Chan Ho Yin in you with their own serum. Doesn't matter if they were right or wrong to think that. It just helps us understand that it might be a specific interest in you rather than you being a target of convenience."

That might have been the most I'd heard Clint speak, so I boggled at that fact just long enough for Darcy to cut in.

"Does it even matter? If she's a successful experiment, they're going to want her back. Bottom line," Darcy said. When Natasha looked at her with a raised brow, Darcy insisted, "I hang around you guys enough, something was bound to rub off on me. Other than Clint."

The last was said with a wicked grin, and I couldn't help but let out a short bark of laughter at that.

"Then we have to identify and eliminate the threat," Steve said resolutely, looking around the group as though he expected protest. When he got none, he continued, "this complicates things though. We want Steph to get back to Trenton to figure out the other, unrelated security concerns, but we have to assume that the Stern Brothers don't know we interceded to get her back. She can't just show back up in Trenton tomorrow or the next day if we want our involvement to go unnoticed."

"I could get back from Russia on my own in a day," Natasha insisted. Then she looked over at Darcy and asked, "how about you?"

"Fuck if I know," Darcy responded. "You had a car, right Steph?"

I nodded my head, and I said, "I was hoping to find a highway and to follow it to the nearest city."

"I'd do the same, then try to call Clint at the first opportunity I got."

Everyone knew I'd called Ranger, and I could practically see wheels turning over in Steve's mind when I glanced at him. He was clearly planning something.

"Ranger went back to Trenton this morning. We need to have him put on a show. He needs to go to where Steph was as fast as he can then travel back by means he would have used to get Steph home— particularly if he was trying to avoid her being sighted."

"I'll call," Natasha stood and left the room with nothing more.

"So what now?" I asked finally, staring at my plate forlornly.

"Everything is up to you," Steve insisted quietly. "We don't have to do it this way if you don't want to. We could have you back at your apartment in Trenton within the hour if you're not willing to stay."

I searched his eyes for any sign of what he was thinking, and I thought what I found was hope and a little bit of desperation.

"But you think this is safest?" I clarified.

"Yes," Steve insisted fervently. "It gives us time to make sure everything is under control with your powers, and it offers you a layer of protection of having us on your side  _with_  the element of surprise."

I mulled it over for a bit, but who was I kidding? I was pretty sure that if I went home, my apartment complex would be nothing more than a pile of ashes after my first nightmare. And that would be the first time I slept.

Plus I wasn't going to say no to more time with Steve.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> Thanks for all the kind words and encouragement, everyone. Baby has been here for a few weeks now, so hopefully I'll be able to get back into the habit of writing sometime soon. Not sure if I'll be able to catch up to old comments, or if I'll just need to go from here forward, but know that even if I didn't manage to respond, I very much appreciated them!


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Training began in the medical suite with a series of tests. To start, it was more tubes of blood than felt strictly necessary in my opinion, though at least Bruce carefully walked me through every step before he performed it. From there it was a series of MRI, CT, and pretty much every scan that the scientists could think to run on me. That took us all the way to lunch time, which gave Steve and I a short window of alone time.

Sadly we only used it to eat.

After that, we started with a treadmill stress test with only a few grumbles of protest on my part and one short lecture from Steve about the importance of finding out what was going on.

"Come on, Steph!" Tony cried out from off to the side while I ran, "if you wanted to be done, you should have just said something. There's no reason to melt my equipment!"

"What?" I asked, looking down just in time to see the last of the wires that had been connected to the pads all over my torso swing free— no longer connected to the sensors. Pulling out the neck of my shirt, I looked down and saw that they, along with my underwear, were missing. "Sorry!"

"Alright, well," Tony said. "Accidents like that were bound to happen, I suppose. And that brings me to another point— my opportunity to prove to Pepper that  _I_  was right!"

"None of this is about you, Stark," Steve started, but I cut him off quickly.

"You were right about what?" I asked Tony.

Tony seemed willing to let Steve's statement go for whatever reason, and instead he focused on me, "about the clothes. What I gave you is uncomfortable and clearly not working out, right?"

I looked down at myself and hedged, "well, it's a bit itchy. But I'm really grateful to not be ending up naked all the time. Though undergarments are an issue."

"See!" Tony shouted triumphantly as he enthusiastically waved us to follow him into the elevator. "I had a better, more comfortable material already available, but Pepper didn't think it was appropriate!"

"And why is that?" Steve asked suspiciously.

"It might be a little bit tight," Tony conceded, holding his fingers close together. "But it works much more effectively that way! And she could wear regular clothes over it, Cap!"

Steve's jaw had tensed up, and he looked about ready for a fight, so I quickly took a few steps to be in between them and leaned my back against Steve's front so his arms came around me. I could feel him loosen up a little as the seconds passed.

To Tony, I said, "sure. Let's give it a try."

I regretted that decision five minutes later after squeezing myself into what Tony had jokingly called my "future supersuit". It fit me almost like a wetsuit and was made of a navy material. The left breast had an Avengers logo on it.

It was the kind of outfit that one too many donuts, heck one donut at all, would show on my gut. Or at least it would have before my most recent kidnapping. I couldn't deny the observations that had been made on the flight back to the States about my figure being leaner than it had been pre-kidnapping.

If there was one silver lining to all this, maybe I'd be able to eat all the donuts without repercussions.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, and Steve looked like he was torn between being angry at Tony for creating it and throwing me over his shoulder to take me back to his room and inspecting it himself.

Before either of us could say anything though, Tony yelled "heads up!" and tossed a balled up pile of clothes at me.

"What?" I asked staring at Tony in confusion.

"You can certainly pull that look off, but assuming you don't want to walk around like that normally, you can fit clothes over it easily," Tony told me. "But this way when you...light up… unexpectedly, you won't find yourself naked. And there's enough built in support that—"

"I won't need underwear," I realized. "It actually is remarkably comfortable. It's like yoga pants but better."

"You're welcome," Tony said. "Plus it looks like you in just the underlayer is going to make Cap's head explode. Or maybe some other part of his anatomy. Not that I can blame him, it's just weird to see such a paragon of virtue gone over a hot piece of—"

"Tony," Steve growled out in warning.

Bruce clapped his hands and drew our attention to him as he said, "okay, Steph. I'm glad you're more comfortable now. The material adapts to your body, which includes things like temperature. It will become almost like athletic, moisture-wicking material that is breathable when you heat up, for example. And this blend doesn't have all the additional synthetic fibers to make it look more like regular clothes, so it should be soft. Not itchy. You can put those clothes on top obviously if you'd like, but for this next part we're going to see if you can start some fires on purpose. So…"

"They'll just be ashes if I succeed anyway," I filled in the blank. With a sigh, I set the clothes down and thought I managed to only give them the slightest wistful glance as I backed away from them. Then I glanced over at Steve apologetically as I said, "all those scans- they've basically seen me naked anyway."

Steve just waved off my concern, and Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Plus, you kept doing the whole naked thing on the jet the other day," Tony confirmed.

Given his reputation and what others had said about his lack of filter, I expected Tony to continue with some sort of commentary on my body, but he managed to reign it in.

"If you'll come over here," Tony said instead, waving his hands Vanna White style at a door in what looked like a steel box about the size of an elevator car that was sitting in the middle of the lab we were in. "We can start seeing exactly what you can do."

A door opened off to the side of the lab, and I noticed another addition to the room. Along the far from where we'd come in was a small room had been built that was made of what appeared to be some sort of safety glass. Inside were some comfortable movie-theater style seats in two stadium rows. The other Avengers currently in residence were filing in, and then Darcy dashed in at the last second before the door swung shut, giving me a little wave even as she responded to something Natasha said.

Darcy's impish grin made me think she probably wasn't supposed to be there, but she clearly intended to stay anyway. I watched, wishing I could read lips, as more words were exchanged before Darcy triumphantly flounced to a seat and settled in giving me a thumbs up.

"Steph," Steve said quietly, drawing my attention back to him, Tony, and Bruce. "Did you get that?"

I cleared my throat and said, "no, sorry. I was too busy feeling like an animal in a zoo."

Steve smiled apologetically, but I reached out to let him know it was okay before focusing on Bruce when he began talking.

"We have video cameras, speakers, and a complex set of sensors and monitoring equipment in this box. You're going to go into the box and see if you can channel that heat again. I don't want you to do so using negative emotions— trying to recall the kidnapping or anything like that. If you can't do so, I will walk you through some visualization exercises. Then we'll try again with you just working on it on your own. Our goal here, is to get you to control this thing, and I think once you learn to purposely turn it on, you'll actually be in good shape."

"After all," Tony cut in, "it is actually part of your DNA now."

"Okay," I agreed slowly. "And the box…?"

"Should contain the heat and anything else you throw at it. We built it to withstand much greater temperatures than we've measured coming off of you thus far. And JARVIS is in there with a containment system if necessary. Additionally we will all be in that box with the others, watching on monitors and through the glass if applicable. And that box is an additional layer of safety for the rest of us."

I blew out a breath, knowing that they had way more experience than me in anything approaching this kind of scenario. With a nod, I reached for the door handle on my metal box, unsurprised when Steve got to it before me. He pulled the door open for me and guided me toward it with a hand, but he stopped me in the threshold for a brief kiss before allowing me to fully enter.

The door closed with a resounding thud, and I felt a bit of panic start to creep in. It felt like an eternity had passed before there was a barely audible click and Steve's voice rang through the room, "how's it going in there, Steph."

I took a deep breath then blew it out and said, "yep. Just hanging out in this metal coffin."

"Are you claustrophobic, Steph?" Bruce asked calmly. "Your heart rate seems elevated."

"I dunno. Not really. I've just had some bad experiences in small spaces. Give me a minute," I closed my eyes and imagined myself sitting on the couch with Steve, watching basketball, with his arm slowly stroking my arm. Finally I opened my eyes again and said, "okay."

"Whatever you just did definitely worked," Steve reassured me. "And remember, we're right here. You aren't really alone."

I nodded to myself before I realized they could all see me, but then I allowed myself a small shrug. As Tony pointed out earlier, they'd all seen me naked. They could see me freaking out a bit. Except Darcy, but I was certain she wasn't the type to judge.

"Alright, Steph," Bruce spoke softly and in an even tone. "Since that did work so well, I want you to close your eyes and go back to that place or whatever you did to calm yourself."

"I imagined myself sitting on the couch in Steve's apartment, relaxing and watching basketball again," I confessed.

"That's good," Bruce agreed. "Now picture yourself there, safe and sound, but remember how your body felt when your power is going through you. Not all of it at once, maybe just focus on your hand."

I stood there with my eyes closed, trying to do as he requested. I had no idea how long it was before Darcy of all people spoke sounding excited, "Steph, open your eyes."

I did and immediately noticed that my right hand, the one I'd been trying to imagine since I'd been pretending Steve was sitting on my left, was engulfed in flame right up to the wrist. I gasped and lost my concentration, which caused the fire to go out.

"That was actual fire," I said. "Not just heat."

Even to my own ears, I sounded panicked.

"It's not surprising," Tony reassured me. "Where there's heat, there's bound to be fire."

"Isn't it 'where there's smoke, there's fire'?" I asked meekly. Happy for the reprieve offered by a little lame joking.

"Hey, I'm the genius here," Tony protested, though I could hear the smile in his voice. "How'd your suit hold up?"

I looked down at the end of the long sleeve which would have been right by the flame. "Good as new," I confirmed.

"Like I said, I'm a genius," Tony bragged.

I tuned him out and looked at my hand, trying to remember what the fire had felt like, and this time it came more easily. So thinking, I tried to imagine the sensation spreading.

"Hooooooly shit!" Darcy yelled in excitement.

"Did you do that on purpose?" Natasha asked sounding curious.

"I imagined it everywhere," I told her.

I vaguely heard JARVIS in the background, saying something about temperatures as I was distracted looking at each of my arms then down to my torso and legs fascinated by my body being completely covered in flames.

"Can you go hotter?" Tony's voice cut through my thoughts, and I paused to think about it.

I had no real explanation for how I knew I could, I just knew it with absolute certainty. I could hear clamoring of other voices in the distance, but I wasn't listening to them. Instead I could hear the whoosh of the flames around me, and feel the rightness of what was happening inside me.

Until suddenly it was gone and l felt cold and wet. I looked down and noticed that, drat, JARVIS had foamed me again.

After a couple of seconds of confusion on my end, the door whooshed open, and I peeked my head out.

"What the fuck?" I asked. "I was just doing what you said."

"Didn't you hear us yelling at you?!" Tony shouted as he rushed from the observation room into the larger laboratory space. "Of all the reckless—"

"TONY!" Darcy yelled, following hot on his heels. She got right up in his face and continued shouting, "CALM THE FUCK DOWN! And who the hell are  _you_  to call  _anyone_  reckless!"

The two continued bickering, and I stared at them, wide-eyed until a large, muscular chest that was becoming ever more recognizable to me blocked my view.

"Hey," Steve said softly. "Are you okay?"

His hands came up and wrapped around my shoulders offering me some comfort, at which point I realized that I had tears dripping down my face for some reason.

"Yeah," I looked at my toes and cleared my throat. "Sorry, I don't know why. Anyway— I guess I don't know why he's so angry? I was doing what he told me to do."

"Steph," Bruce spoke softly from a few feet behind and to the side of Steve. When I turned and looked at him, he said, "there's such a thing as  _too_  hot."

"What—" I started to ask for clarification when Tony finally calmed down enough to walk over to us.

Darcy was practically glued to his side, apparently making sure he behaved, and Tony actually cast a sideways glance at her before he said, "lots of things. First of all, you were burning oxygen faster than JARVIS could pump it in for you to breathe. Second, if JARVIS had waited a second longer, you would have completely melted that box and no longer been contained. And third!"

He started to approach yelling again and Darcy elbowed him providing Bruce the opportunity to jump back in with, "unchecked generation of extreme heat can cause thermonuclear reactions among other side effects."

"A hydrogen bomb," Tony said. "you were on your way to producing so much heat that you could have caused two molecules to get hot enough to hit and create an uncontrolled reaction like a thermonuclear weapon."

There was complete silence in the room for several beats before I nervously said, "okay. That would be bad."

"Yeah, Steph," Tony said sarcastically. "That would be bad."

"Well how was I supposed to know?" I argued, straightening my spine. "You told me to go hotter!"

"Then we told you to stop!" Tony protested.

"Well, I couldn't hear you. I was concentrating and fire can be kinda loud when you're, you know, engulfed in it!" I told him, waving my hands about.

"Okay," Steve spoke calmly, clearly trying to lower the tension and step things down a notch. "Tony and Bruce, did you get the data you need for today? Should we call for a break for the day?"

I took a deep breath and looked into Steve's eyes, allowing the confidence he seemed to project to wash over me and make me feel a little less rage toward Tony.

Tony scoffed, but when Darcy just scowled at him, he clamped his mouth shut, cutting off what would have surely been a sarcastic retort.

"Yes," Bruce quickly stepped into the silence to agree. "We have more data than we can likely process and make sense of today, so I think a break is in order. If anything else comes up, can we do some more tomorrow, Steph?"

After one more cleansing breath, I nodded my assent saying, "anything you can tell me about everything that's happening with me, I appreciate. Even if you don't need more data, can I maybe… I don't know… practice?"

I asked the last looking over at Steve and then Natasha who I could see a little ways off behind his shoulder.

"Absolutely," Steve insisted.

"Practice will be a huge part of gaining control," Natasha murmured as she stepped up fully to our group. "And that's something I think we all want, plus the sooner you're in control, the sooner you can go back to Trenton so we can get the rest sorted out."

"Control is good," I said while nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah yeah yeah." Tony cut in. "Feelings and crap. Blah. There is actually one more thing I want you to try, Steph."

"Tony," Steve cautioned.

"Oh pull the stick out of your ass, Cap," Tony said with surprisingly little heat given his words. "If everyone could just take a few steps back."

"What are you thinking?" Bruce asked while walking backwards. "Maybe we should go back into the room."

"It's fine," Tony waved off his concern. "I think you and she both have more control than either of you give yourselves credit for, but that's a whole different feelings conversation. Steph, you remember what it felt like to have the flames in a particular part of your body, like your hand, versus your whole body, right?"

"Yes," I quickly confirmed.

"Alright, then we'll start slow in terms of amount, right?" Tony asked.

"Right," I allowed a small, tentative smile to cross my face, hoping that Tony hadn't written me off as a complete loser after the previous test. "Thermonuclear, bad."

Tony returned my smile with a big one of his own and a laugh. "Exactly. Thermonuclear bad. Now. What I want you to do is put some fire just in your feet."

I looked down at my feet and felt myself squinch my eyes shut in concentration a moment later. In my mind's eye, I pictured my feet and then imagined them on fire… but not too hard.

"Okay, good," Tony said. "Now instead of your whole foot, can you just do the bottoms of your feet?"

It was an odd request, but nobody objected. I figured it was just a test of the amount of precision I could command- putting the fire on a smaller, more specific part of my body.

"Good," Tony murmured, allowing me to keep my focus instead of opening my eyes to see if I had done it. "Little hotter."

I adjusted the intensity of what I was feeling.

"Little hotter," Tony urged.

We repeated the process a couple more times before Darcy's voice cut in with a triumphant shout of, "hot damn! You can FLY!"

"Fly?!" I squeaked out in surprise, opening my eyes.

Of course that was all that it took to break my concentration, and I let out an undignified squawk as I started falling out of the sky.

I'd only raised myself a few feet in the air, but Steve still managed to move fast enough to catch me before I hit the ground.

If anyone asked, I would tell them that I was breathless from the excitement of catching myself flying. But I wasn't really sure anyone would believe me given the way that I lost myself in Steve's eyes as I said, "thanks."

Because the reality was, I was feeling affected by the display of strength and agility from Steve as well as the sensation of finding myself pressed tightly to all that muscle.

Steve's gaze dropped from my eyes down to my lips, and I watched his pupils dilate in response to my tone.

"Yeaaaaahhhh," Clint's voice cut in though neither of us looked away from the other. "We don't want to watch whatever happens next. How about we see you two crazy kids in the morning?"

"O seven hundred," Steve barked out. His commanding tone made me tingle even more, and I reflexively licked my lips. Steve's eyes followed the motion, and his arms tightened around me. I could hear everyone else moving toward the door, but they were still within earshot as Steve raised his voice and shouted to them, gaze unwavering from mine, "make that o nine hundred."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: See what I did there with the title? Out of the frying pan INTO THE FIRE?! Ba Dum Tss! Carry on, nothing to see here, just a sleep deprived author enjoying her not-even-really-a-pun puns way too much. Also, she should very, very much remind you of another character...


	23. Chapter 23

Contrary to what the others likely believed, Steve and I were capable of more than just staying in the bedroom. I mean, we did have some fun in there immediately after my training session because we were both plenty amped up, but after that we decided to go out for some dinner.

"Are you sure we can just… go out?" I asked Steve for probably the third time.

To his credit, Steve managed to hide any exasperation he was feeling with me well as he grabbed my hands in his and squeezed reassuringly.

"Yes. We're going to go to a restaurant that Tony owns in a hotel just a few blocks away. We'll have a driver take us in one of Tony's cars with the tinted windows so nobody can see who it is leaving. They won't follow because plenty of these cars come in and out every day for Stark Industries business alone and it isn't one of the Avengers vehicles. When we get to the hotel, we'll go in through the back, and this is a place we go to regularly. The hotel and restaurant staff have signed all manner of NDAs and agreements, and they won't talk. Nobody knows to look for you in New York, but even if they did, I feel confident that they wouldn't find you out at the restaurant."

"Okay," I agreed nervously. And really I wasn't too hard to convince because it didn't take long for me to go stir crazy, and a night out would hopefully ease that feeling which was already taking over. "And it'll be safe?"

Steve let out one small sigh as he said, "yes, I will keep you safe."

I opened my mouth to correct him because that wasn't my concern, but I stopped when he held up a hand and said, "you'll be fine. And if not, I'll get you out of there quickly. Everyone else at the restaurant will be safe too. I won't let anything happen to you or the public, Steph. I wouldn't take you out if I was worried you'd lose control and burn down any buildings. Alright?"

By way of answer, I stretched myself up and wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him the rest of the way down to my level. I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then I spun around to walk to his dresser and grab up the light jacket that had been left there with more, regular clothes for me to wear over the bodysuit that Tony had made for me.

Half an hour later we were seated at a table and our drink and first course orders taken without more than a blink of recognition when the hostess first laid eyes on Steve.

"So when you said that 'this is a place we go to regularly,' you didn't really mean yourself, did you?" I asked with a teasing tone.

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked in response.

"Well," I set my hands on the table and looked at him mock-seriously. "First, the hostess seemed genuinely surprised to see you here but like it made sense. Which makes me think she's seen at least some of your teammates plenty and knew it was possible that you'd show up one day, but she didn't actually expect it to ever happen."

"She could just be new," Steve argued.

"She could," I conceded, "but then her coworkers would have mentioned you among the list of people they see regularly. Because if they're not allowed to discuss it outside of the restaurant, you know they're gossiping about it while they're here and they can."

Steve frowned at that, brow furrowed in thought as he said, "you don't really think—"

I cut him off with a laugh, "you can bet your ass they do. It's entertaining, but in a job like this that relies so heavily on tips it's also just the smart thing to do. Which brings me to the second thing, if you were a regular, she would have known your drink order and suggested it or something similar then asked what I wanted. It would make you feel welcome and important, and that's a good tone for her to set."

I could see Steve bristle at that, and he opened his mouth to no doubt tell me he didn't _need_ to be made to feel important. Holding up my hand, I said, "I know you and your ego aren't that fragile, but bottom line is that most people probably tip better at places where they feel… cared for, I guess is one way to put it… by the staff."

After a couple moments to think about that, Steve finally nodded. Then he prodded me with, "anything else?"

"You answered my question with a question which pretty much always means 'yes' or 'guilty'. If you were a skip of mine, and I walked up to you and said, 'are you Steve Rogers?' and you said, 'who, me?' That would be a big fat, 'yes' in my book. It's an evasive, defensive response."

"I was not being defensive!" Steve protested. When I snorted a laugh at that reaction, Steve cracked a grin of his own. "Okay. _That_ kind of was, but earlier I was not. I was just curious to know your thought process. To know how you knew. With someone like Natasha, I assume-"

"That she spied on you?" I filled in with a laugh. "That she knows everything you do before you do it?"

"Maybe not everything," Steve countered. Then he paused and thought about it for a second and said, "well, come to think of it. She does always seem to know everything. Anyway, I guess I'm just curious about you."

The end was said with an adorably self-deprecating smile and a shrug of his shoulders that I had a feeling had been around a lot longer than his muscular physique.

"I don't know," I hedged a bit, nervous for how it would be taken. "I've just observed a lot of different types of people over the last couple of years, both with bounty hunting and with pitching in at Rangeman from time to time. That and there are some places in Trenton at which I'm a bit of a regular- like Pinos and the bakery. I know this is New York, but I'd expect there to still be a certain radius of where people live or work that they have their usual places they go and where they get that 'regular' status. And while you're clearly familiar with the layout of this location and know where you're going, for instance. And you knew the menu as well. But you don't have actual familiarity with the staff from what I can tell, so I'm guessing that was more a case of you having done your research on the location before we came rather than you having been here many times."

"It's what makes you good at your job," Steve said matter-of-factly. I was pretty sure I was gaping because Steve just grinned as he said, "It never really made sense how you were so good at it, even with someone like Ranger training you. Not in as little time as you've been on the job. It's amazing really what you've accomplished as a bond enforcement agent. You can write it off as experience from the job if you'd like, but it's just who you are. Some people are just naturals at reading other people, and it's a quality I've always envied. Especially since waking up and the time I spent being a part of SHIELD."

"I'm really not-" I started to protest.

Steve shrugged again and insisted, "you are. And it must be part of what makes you so good at finding people."

"It's just luck," I told him.

"Maybe, maybe not," he replied in a way that easily told me which he thought was true. "It would make you one hell of a spy. That and the lying."

"Lying?" I knew I sounded indignant, and I let out a frustrated huff as we had to stop our conversation to receive our drinks and food then make our selections for the rest of the meal. When the waitress left, I hissed out quietly, "I am not a liar! I'm a… fibber…"

At that, Steve flat out laughed. I could feel my nose wrinkle up as I made a face of displeasure, but before I could say anything more, Steve reached over and playfully tapped me on the nose teasing me, "you're forgetting something."

"Oh yeah, what's that?" I asked, chin tilted up in defiance and ready for some verbal sparring.

"I've seen you work," he said simply.

I'd opened my mouth ready to counter before he'd even spoken, and I snapped it shut with a clack of the teeth.

"Well," I said slowly, pausing to run my tongue along my teeth as I tried to figure out what to say.

Steve was smirking at me, and I narrowed my eyes at him. The look on his face plainly said, "I'm waiting. Show me what you've got," but I honestly couldn't think of a retort. After a few more beats of silence, Steve made a pointed look at the plate in front of me clearly indicating that I should eat as he picked up his own fork and took a few bites of his food.

"It's not an insult. You're good at lying, and on the fly too. From what I can tell you've never lied about anything major to me," he finally told me. "And I'd say it's a useful skill to have especially in your line of work, as well as mine. Natasha always laments the fact that I can't lie worth a damn."

"Yeah, but you're Mr, Trust-Me-I'm-Always-Honest! So-" I was cut off from continuing by what sounded like an explosion nearby. My eyes went wide even as they met Steve's for a moment before we both turned to look at the door to the kitchen when the fire alarm started going off and the door burst open with a cacophony of noise and a stream of employees piling out.

"Stay here," Steve told me, gesturing to the room, "as long as you feel it is safe to do so, to get people to evacuate. I'll be right back as soon as I make sure the situation is under control and nobody needs help getting out."

I gave a quick nod and turned to assess the room, hearing Steve rush off behind me. I started with the tables nearest me, urging people toward the exit furthest away from the kitchen just in case. Knowing that people sometimes hide instead of flee in such situations, I checked under them as well as I moved through the room.

When the room was almost empty, I turned a slow circle looking for stragglers and froze when I saw one of the busboys with a gun pressed to the head of another patron.

"You're coming with me," he said with a gravelly voice, "or I kill her."

Slowly so as not to appear a threat, I raised my hands and nodded my head in understanding willing my voice not to shake as I said, "okay. You got it. You don't need two of us though, right? That's overkill. Plus it's difficult to manage, which just means you'll be slowed down."

"You were here with The Captain," he told me. "I don't know who you are, but that also means I don't know what your skills are. I think I'll keep the hostage to ensure your compliance."

Alright, I couldn't fault his logic there. I wasn't anyone special, and I didn't have any kind of elite SHIELD training, but if he really didn't know who I was, then I could understand him treating me as though I was dangerous, just in case.

"You're leading the way," he told me, thrusting his chin toward the door. "Don't tip anyone off or-"

"You kill the hostage," I said mildly. "I get it. You're the boss."

As I followed his directions and moved out of the restaurant and through the hotel lobby to the elevators, I tried to come up with a plan.

The customers and staff in the restaurant had cleared out surprisingly quickly, and I figured that was because there had been so many attacks in New York since the Avengers had moved into town that people were honing their reaction times. Steve would probably be out of the kitchen shortly after we left, but he would likely just assume that I had evacuated- not necessarily realize something was wrong.

When the elevator doors opened, we stepped inside and I cursed my luck that nobody had been waiting with us who might realize something was wrong. Then again, getting more innocent bystanders involved probably wouldn't be great either.

The man shoved his hostage at me so she crashed into me and we both fell backwards into the corner of the elevator as the doors started to shut. From his pocket, he pulled a key that he stuck into the key lock on the elevator panel and selected floor 17.

This just kept getting weirder and weirder.

Once we reached the seventeenth floor, the man handed me a key card, grabbed his hostage once more, trained his gun on her, and gestured for me to exit first.

"To the left," he told me. "Seventeen ten."

My hands started to shake and palms started to sweat as I approached the indicated door. Generally speaking, I didn't feel like being in a relatively private space with this guy was going to be good for either the other woman or I. Because of the nerves, it took a couple attempts before I was able to use the key card to unlock the door. It appeared to be some sort of suite, and at the hostage-taker's insistence, I walked through the sitting area to a door and beyond to a bedroom that had obviously undergone a makeover.

The bed was missing, and what remained reminded me almost of a movie set. The curtains were drawn making the room dark. Over the expensive hotel carpet in the middle of the room was a faux scuffed up hardwood floor. Sitting in the middle of it was a metal chair with shackles on it.

"Pick up the cuffs and sit," the man told me, indicating a pair of heavy duty metal handcuffs that I hadn't noticed at first. "Put your hands behind your back and cuff them."

I looked at the other woman once I had, fear for her clouding my vision. Surely the fact that there was only one chair was extremely ominous.

Except that when I struggled to close the second cuff in the awkward position, the woman let out an impatient snort and strode over to do it herself. As soon as that cuff was on, the woman moved around to my front and put on the ankle shackles.

"Hurry up," the man told her, setting down his gun.

"What?" I started to ask, trailing off as the woman slipped on some brass knuckles. She wound up, and I protested, "wait wait wait-"

Her fist made contact with my chin, and it was lights out.

I awoke an unknown amount of time later with a groan. After a few seconds, I began to remember what had happened, a bit like waking up the morning after a wild night spent at the bar, headache and all. Things came back in flashes, and by the end I perked up and felt adrenaline rushing through my body.

I was still in the hotel room. Before I'd lost consciousness, the light from outside had been beginning to fade, and was almost entirely blocked out by the fabric they'd put over the windows. It seemed a little darker, but not enough so for me to think it was actually night time.

So not that much time had passed.

In fact, I thought I could still hear sirens arriving to the scene outside. If I was lucky, it hadn't been more than 10 or 15 minutes max. Steve would have figured out that I was missing, and he was probably still onsite beginning to search.

For a couple minutes, I'll admit, I struggled with my bindings. Panic began to creep into my brain when I couldn't get them to budge because they were metal, and I didn't know any cool ways to break out of handcuffs.

Except.

"Duh, Stephanie," I muttered to myself. "They're made of metal. And if these people don't know who you are or what you are now, then it's probably just regular old metal, and that means. YES!"

I hopped to my feet and did a little happy dance as I turned around and looked at the destroyed cuffs and shackles I'd left behind, having heated up my hands and feet enough to melt them off of me.

Beyond the bedroom door, I could make out what sounded like conversation. The voices grew steadily louder, and I knew I didn't have much time before the bad guy or his freaking non-hostage accomplice came into the room. I needed to find a way out, but I also wanted to alert Steve and hotel security to my location so they could capture these people.

With a flash of realization, I decided that if I could faintly hear sirens outside, that meant that the hotel fire alarms weren't going off- the blaring would have blocked out the street sounds. And that meant.

Squeezing my eyes shut in hopes that I had enough control despite my current stress level not to go thermonuclear, I let the flames engulf my body. Then two things happened simultaneously- the hotel fire alarm started going off, and the bedroom door opened.

"What the fuck?" The guy from earlier asked. He gaped for a second, but then his hand started reaching behind him. Figuring it was a gun, I decided I didn't really want to stick around.

"It's been fun, but I think I'm just gonna," I gave a little finger wave then pointed to the window.

His hand started coming forward and I saw the glint of metal confirming my suspicion that he was going for a weapon, so I concentrated more flames into my feet and flew… into the ceiling.

"Mother fu-" I began to curse at myself angrily before being cut off by the woosh of my flames as I shook it off and tried again.

It was kind of embarrassing. I bounced around the room like a pinball a few times before I finally managed to shoot out the window… and across the street slamming into the brick of the building across from me.

I heard a few screams and gasps from the street below and shook my head trying to orient myself and figure out what to do.

And was that the sound of AC/DC I heard?

Yes, that was definitely "Hell's Bells". Looking around in confusion I saw Iron Man below me as the music abruptly cut off and a tinny version of Tony's voice called up to me, "alright there Steph?"

"My head hurts," I yelled down, still a little stunned and having a hard time tracking thoughts in a way I knew meant I had a concussion.

"Alright, I got you," Tony called. "I'll catch you."

I started to decrease the fire at the bottom of my feet only to panic and shoot back up when I saw Tony move out of the way from under me. I leaned my head sideways to look beyond my feet and yell, "I thought you were going to get me?"

Unfortunately for me, I wasn't paying enough attention and I accidentally sent myself flying off at an angle. I hit the outside of the hotel, barely getting my hands up to cushion the blow a little and heard Tony cursing up a blue streak as he flew after me.

I vaguely realized he was saying something about melting, and a single thought crossed my mind through the fog of the concussion.

"Ohhhh, FLAME OFF!" I yelled to Tony, letting him know I understood.

Thinking it and saying it was apparently enough for my body and powers to cooperate because I had a couple seconds that felt like minutes as the mental haze cleared enough for me to realize I was in freefall before Iron Man swooped in and grabbed me.

I was having a difficult time focusing, so I couldn't decipher what, if anything, he was saying over the sounds of his suit and the rushing of the air.

Seconds later I was on the ground, blinking up in surprise at Steve who was somehow already in his Captain America uniform.

"Hi," I said dumbly, only vaguely aware of the silence that was settling in around us. "I left you some bad guys upstairs."

"Are you alright?" Steve asked, looking me over for injuries.

"Sure," I told him, voice trying to project a confidence I didn't really feel at the moment. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't get bored dating me."

On all sides, a bunch of chatter picked up at that, but I failed to notice at the time. Instead I added, "I could have done without the concussion though because I had much higher hopes for how the night would end than this."

So saying I let unconsciousness take over once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by an episode of the show Flashpoint. So if you’re a fan of that and some of the hotel scene seems familiar, there you go!


	24. Chapter 24

I came to in Steve's arms with a happy sigh, thinking for the moment that I must have fallen asleep on his couch and he was carrying me to a bed or something. I threaded my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a thorough kiss, feeling him startle in surprise.

When he pulled back, I smiled happily up at him and tapped his arm to try to get him to let me down so I could walk on my own. Taking in his look of utter confusion, I realized something was off. Looking around, I saw police tape up, crowds of people beyond it, and that many of them were recording our interaction.

"Shit!" I blurted out. "I forgot!"

"You forgot?" Steve asked, sounding worried once more. "Are you feeling alright?"

I struggled trying to get down as I absently said, "yeah, I feel great, why?"

"You passed out less than two minutes ago," he told me, still not letting me down.

"Seriously," I hissed at him. "Put me down. You are completely ruining my street cred right now."

"Get her in the car now, Cap," Natasha growled as she practically materialized next to us, confidently standing between me and as much of the crowd as she could. "She needs to be out of sight though I suspect the damage is already done."

Steve broke out in a jog over to some SUVs, and the back door to the nearest one opened right as we reached it. He climbed in and settled with me on his lap. As soon as he slammed the door shut behind us, the car started driving off, blaring its horn repeatedly to get people to move out of the way.

I scrambled off Steve's lap and onto the seat next to him, pulling my hands up to my cheeks and starting to apologize, "Steve, I am SO sorry!"

"Wait, what?" Steve asked in confusion. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I just kissed you in front of all those people!" I cried out, hands flapping in distress. "Like Natasha said, I just totally ruined your reputation!"

Much to my surprise, Steve looked at me for half a second then absolutely burst out laughing. It was enough to get me to still.

"Natasha wasn't worried about my… my… my…" he trailed off laughing a little more before getting himself under control with a deep breath and starting over. "She wasn't worried about my reputation. She was worried about people getting clear pictures of you that would allow you to be identified in the media and for the people who are after you to figure out where you are and who you are with."

"Oh," I said lamely.

"Yeah," Steve replied. Then with a sigh he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that carried on for what was most likely a few more minutes until Happy loudly cleared his throat before leaving the car. When Steve pulled back he added, "for the record, I had hoped the date would end very differently as well."

I couldn't help it, I blushed hard at that, and I started tingling in all the interesting places.

"Well, you know, we could…" I trailed off, allowing my hand to wander down from where it was resting on Steve's cheek and my fingers to wiggle into the little bit of exposed skin on his neck and hook into his collar.

"Maybe later," Steve said, opening his door and hopping out matter of factly. "First I want to know why you were displaying all the signs of a serious concussion then woke up after only briefly losing consciousness seemingly perfectly fine."

That sounded a lot like going to the hospital, so I narrowed my eyes at him, crossed my arms across my chest when he reached a hand out to help me out of the SUV, and told him, "I am NOT going to the hospital."

"We aren't at the hospital," he told me gesturing around him before reaching back in for me again.

Cautiously I looked around and noticed that we were in one corner of what appeared to be a large parking garage. The section we were in was cordoned off from the rest by what looked almost like some sort of weird forcefield I wasn't even going to begin to try to figure out, and the floor and walls had Avengers logos on them at various intervals. The SUV was pulled up to an elevator that also had the logo on it. Behind Steve and off to the side stood Happy, looking up and acting like he was trying to offer us privacy while also appearing to be barely holding back a laugh.

Grumbling to myself I finally took Steve's hand and climbed out saying, "this had better not be a ruse."

"No ruse," Steve insisted. "We're just going back to the labs where you were doing your tests before, and Bruce is going to check you over. Then we'll debrief."

"I like the sound of that," I thought to myself.

Apparently I said it out loud though. I allowed myself a moment of being glad we were alone (minus Happy, who I had been assured numerous times was like a vault) before switching to disappointment when Steve said, "not what that means." With a smirk as we stepped on the elevator he added, "but I'm sure that if you're good, we'll get to that after."

I contemplated that for a moment before sticking my hand out to shake and saying, "deal."

Steve laughed and took my hand to shake, then kept it in his as the elevator doors opened and we strode out together.

Bruce appeared busy, so we quietly stood there for a couple minutes observing him before he came over with a gentle smile and said, "sorry about that. I heard you had a bit of excitement. How are you feeling?"

"I feel great, Doc," I told him.

"I'm really not that kind of doctor," he told me on a sigh, shaking his head in amusement. "I help out sometimes."

"You have multiple doctorates though," Steve pointed out.

"I'm not having this discussion again," Bruce muttered all the while busying himself readying equipment around the room. Turning to me once more he said, "okay, Steph. With your permission, since you're feeling alright, I'd like to start by drawing some blood. That way JARVIS can start up an analysis comparing it to your previous samples while we do a series of cognitive tests and anything else that seems like it might be relevant. I'm not sure what all we'll need to look at, but I think I'll know it when I see it."

"Woah woah woah," I couldn't resist teasing him. "Steve told me that 'debriefing' didn't mean  _that_."

Bruce chuckled at that as he started the blood draw process, and Steve looked between us a couple times with an adorably puzzled expression. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and typed on it with his brow furrowed for a moment. I watched him for a moment, silently counting the seconds until his thinking face turned into a blush.

"There it is," I murmured. Bruce startled for a moment then looked over at Steve and chuckled briefly.

"I've heard the phrase before," Steve defended himself even though neither of us were making fun of him. "I just always took it at face value. I didn't realize the association with it and…"

He trailed off and I thought about teasing him a bit but decided instead to drop it as Bruce had already fed my blood into a machine and was back in front of me shining a light in my eye.

"Pupil response is fine," he told me while Sam and Tony filtered in. "Any headache? Dizziness? Nausea?"

"Nope to all those," I reported honestly. I remembered Steve telling me that Sam was pararescue a few years before and had medical training, and Tony had obviously been studying my… transformation… with Bruce, so I figured they were there to help if Bruce needed it and offer opinions.

"Her speech isn't slurred or slowed," Sam added. "Any obvious cognitive issues you noticed Steve?"

"She seemed a little spacey before she passed out, and then she obviously was confused when she first woke up," Steve said. "But nothing since then."

"I feel FINE," I reiterated. "When I was in the room after the first concussion, I was definitely having difficulty thinking clearly, but that's all gone now."

"The first concussion?" Bruce prodded.

"Yeah, I felt kind of concussed. Then I felt better. Then I hit my head again, and I felt worse again. Then I hit my head a few times. Then I passed out for a hot second and boom. All better," I finished with jazz hands hoping that would be the end of that, but a look around showed me a lot more concerned faces rather than the relief I was hoping to see. Rats.

"Okay, okay," Bruce put his hands up as though to slow me down, trying to figure out what was going on. "I need you to walk me through all that again and in more detail."

"Maybe we should wait for the rest of the team," I suggested. "I assume that's what debriefing is?"

"Got it in one," Tony replied affably. "A whole lot of boooooorrrrr-RING for a word that seems to hold so much promise."

I looked over at him, and felt myself relax a little when he winked at me. "How's it going Firefly?" he continued speaking in his rapid pace without allowing me to respond, "no, that's not it. I'll come up with something better. Speaking of flying though, we're really going to need to work on yours. Bruce, I know there's more medical stuff to do. Why don't you run through that really quickly then we'll set her up for some scans. The rest of the team should be back by then, and she can talk while we look at her brain. Make sure she has one- although I don't know why anyone with one  _would_  date a former capsicle. But to each their own and all that. You know, kill a few birds with one stone."

My eyes narrowed and I went to protest, but Steve just squeezed my hand and gave me a look that told me to let it go.

"Brain processing seems good," Bruce said, sounding more amused. "If she kept up with all that."

Still he went through the motions asking me a series of questions, not all of which seemed connected or even to make sense for what he was doing, but I figured he was the professional and I just answered them as they came. Then he made quick work of testing my reflexes.

By the time I was asked to lie on the table so they could scan my head, most of the rest of the team had wandered in.

"Alright, tell us what happened," Natasha prompted.

I had expected Steve to take the lead, but maybe he was disqualified from that responsibility due to either being my boyfriend or also being an involved party at the restaurant. Far be it for me to question an Avenger anyway, so I just walked them through everything that had happened as I remembered it.

I even admitted to my time serving as a human pinball. My retelling was peppered with questions, so by the time I was done, they didn't have many more for me to answer. Thankfully the scans at least were also finished, so we moved to a conference area off to the side while Tony and Bruce worked.

"So," Darcy started, and I whipped my head to look at her in surprise, not realizing she had joined us as well. "How as the date?"

She offered me a big grin as she asked, so I couldn't help but laugh. Deciding to rib Steve a little, I told her, "it was great. Even if Steve did spend a good portion of it calling me a liar!"

"Steven!" Darcy scolded, shaking her head sadly. She barely finished saying his name before she started laughing.

"Punk always was terrible with women," Bucky said with a remorseful tone, clearly trying to prolong the lighthearted moment.

"Ha ha ha," Steve said dryly. Then he pointed at me and accused, "mischievous."

I stuck my tongue out at him impishly and put a heavy dose of feigned innocence when I said, "what? Did you or did you not say that I was a liar?"

"I did not," Steve argued. When I made a shocked noise, he clarified, "I said you were good at lying."

"Well that's not any better," Darcy protested.

"Yes it is," Natasha, Bucky, Clint, and Steve all said at once.

Darcy narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Clint, so Natasha began by addressing Darcy, "relax. He's an okay liar on the job, but he's terrible at it in his personal life, Darcy." Then to me, she said, "it's a valuable skill, as is your ability to use your lies to manipulate people into doing what you want."

"So now I'm not just a liar, but a manipulative one?" I asked indignantly.

I'd started this as a joke, but now I was starting to feel offended.

"Saying someone is good at lying or manipulating others is exactly that- a statement about their skillset. There are plenty of morally good applications for those skills like being a bounty hunter or an undercover cop. Or going outside of law enforcement, you could say that a lot of actresses and actors have those skills as well," Steve began to dig himself out of the hole he'd gotten into. "Calling someone manipulative or a liar, which you certainly are not, implies a lot about their character- and it isn't anything good."

I pursed my lips in thought for a moment before nodding my head and saying, "okay."

When Steve let out a sigh of relief, I tugged him toward me and dropped a kiss on his lips. My stomach growled in the process, so I went back to Darcy's original question and said to her, "and short. The date was too short. We'd barely begun eating the first course when everything went to hell."

"I can help with that," Darcy told me. Then she tipped her head to the ceiling and called out, "JARVIS- pizza!"

"Do you have any special requests for kind of pizza?" Clint asked me.

"All the pizza," I responded.

"See, you ARE a good person," Clint told me in return.

"Did you catch the person at the hotel?" I asked Natasha.

With a frown she told me, "no. JARVIS immediately IDed the primary hostage taker as Roger Cabot, a busboy at the establishment. From there it wasn't difficult to find his girlfriend, Ashley. I had associates check out his apartment while we searched for you. Unfortunately when they arrived, they found the decomposed bodies of the couple sealed off in a bathtub and they appeared to have been there for months."

I felt like I was going to be sick and put a hand to my mouth and the other to my stomach as I asked, "how is that possible."

"There are a few ways," Bucky started.

"But the most likely is that they used a photostatic veil," Steve supplied.

I exchanged horrified looks with Darcy, and asked, "what is that? And do I even want to know?"

"It's SHIELD tech," Sam finally said after nobody else seemed eager to answer. "It's this crazy ass digital mesh thing that can be put over someone's face and make them look like anybody else. Disguises their voice to match as well, as long as you have a viable vocal sample."

"And anything that SHIELD had," I started, catching on quickly.

"HYDRA had," Darcy finished my thought for me. "Well, that's awful."

"They have access to worse things," Clint input grimly. "But photostatic veils are troublesome."

"But, wait. If they'd been there for months…" I trailed off, genuinely confused.

"It wasn't actually about you this time," Natasha said with a wry grin. "Near as we can tell whoever they were had, as I mentioned, been in place for months. Smart money is they were waiting for an opportunity where anyone on the Avengers came in with someone they thought could be used for leverage. It took a while because most of us go in larger groups or Stark and Pepper use it for business meetings, which again, tend to be larger rather than one-on-one."

"You were just caught at the wrong place at the wrong time," Steve told me.

"Story of my life," I said with a shrug. "Not the first time and not the last."

"Uh oh," Darcy said, eyeing Steve warily. "He's doing that whole self-sacrificing hero face where he's trying to gear himself up to say that it's too dangerous for you to be with him."

At that, I couldn't help myself. I started laughing hysterically.

Everyone eyed me cautiously, clearly wondering if I'd finally cracked from all the pressure. I tried a couple times to explain myself, but I couldn't quite get the words out, gasping and crossing my arms to hold onto my aching sides instead.

"Dating me is dangerous," Steve finally said when I'd slowed down. "You might want to consider-"

"You can cut that shit right the fuck out," I scolded, causing Steve's eyes to widen in surprise. Whether at my language or at my vehemence, I wasn't sure, but I just continued on. "Why am I here, physically at the Avengers Tower right now? Because I unknowingly got into an extremely dangerous situation all on my own that made some nut want to experiment on me and turn me into his own little superpower trial toy or whatever. And that's not even the most dangerous situation I've been in! What about the time that a former SVR agent came after me just to mess with Ranger? Or the time I stumbled across a robbery in progress, becoming the only person who could identify the suspect known as the Red Devil which then brought an entire gang, HITMAN AND ALL, down on me?"

After a few beats of silence, Bucky asked, "Red Devil...?"

"He wore a mask," I said, gesturing absently at my face. "It was a whole thing. Only his molotov cocktail didn't explode and it got thrown back at him. He turned and lifted his mask to try to breathe after all the smoke and whatnot, but he was facing me. Anyway, my point is that life is dangerous, or at least my life is. And no offense to you all and your superhero brand of villains, but I don't honestly think this type of situation is any MORE dangerous. Especially because if they were going to use me for leverage, then they were going to keep me alive. And I've been kidnapped multiple times by people who had every intention of killing me from the get-go."

Natasha's grin turned into a big old smirk and she clapped saying, "see, Steve. You've been looking for someone with shared life experiences, and you were right— it makes you a good fit. I particularly like that she calls you on your shit."

"He didn't even scold her for her language," Sam teased.

Steve held his hands up in mock surrender and said, "all I said was that she might want to consider the danger-"

I cut him off again and said, "considered and disregarded. It's going to take more than that to get rid of me."

"I don't want to get rid of you," Steve reassured. "I just want you safe."

"I'm not going to be safe either way- with or without you," I told him honestly. "So I'd rather be with you."

"Safety is relative anyway," Natasha reasoned.

"Damn straight," I agreed. When Steve opened his mouth, I could just tell he was going to say something about me at least trying to be safe. Before he had a chance to say anything I cautioned, "don't even ask it. I don't have a death wish, and that's the best you're going to get. This kind of stuff just happens around me anyway. Asking me to promise you to be safe will force me to lie to you. And you know I can."

The last was said with a teasing tone and a wink, and I sighed with relief at having at least forestalled that conversation for the time being when Steve just chuckled.

"I see what you mean about the manipulating," Darcy stage-whispered to Natasha, which brought a much needed round of laughter to the entire group until Bruce walked over and cleared his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean. It isn't REALLY a cliffhanger.


End file.
